


Do you see what I see?

by Skwibbiblee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Slavery, Multi, Reincarnation, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skwibbiblee/pseuds/Skwibbiblee
Summary: Alex Harte, a high school student, wasn't known for being a whirlwind of a boy, but when memories of a past life rise to the top of his subconscious, how else is he supposed to react, especially when the person in said memories is Alexander Hamilton, the Founding Father without a father?





	1. Just the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Lyric, this is your fault.

Alex Harte wasn’t known for holding his tongue. Having been in foster care since his mother and cousin had passed, at twelve years old, he had learned that the world doesn’t owe him a cent, and he’s gonna have to work to get to where he needs to be. That could be why when he began getting flashbacks of a different life, he recoiled and tried not to sleep. It led to complications in his life, and the normally straight A student was failing miserably.

They told him it was just a slump, but he didn’t know how to explain what was happening. He saw dead people. Literally, Alexander Hamilton had been dead for over two hundred years. He could see his life play out, surprisingly similar to his own, and wondered briefly if he could possibly be...No, that’s ridiculous, science had proven that reincarnation was a falsity. But, still…

[ Hamilton and Burr faced each other, one falling, clutching his ribcage, spitting blood as he tumbled to the ground, his second at his side, and the other retreating like the coward he was. Alexander could smell the gunsmoke as he informed Nathaniel to make sure the loaded pistol that wasn’t shot didn’t go off, eyes drooping, mouth quirked in a sad smile as he felt the blood pour from his wound, being ushered away by the doctor. He knew he wouldn’t make it.]

Harte shook himself awake from where he had fallen asleep at his desk. That dream...It was so vivid.

He needed help.

Alexander had been with his new foster family for about three years, and everything seemed alright, but he was still nervous, jittery, and was surviving on coffee and sheer willpower not to sleep. His body was beginning to shut down from not doing as it obviously needed.

He frantically reached for his phone and checked the time, visibly calming down when he found a text from his friend.

Jack Langton had been Alex’s friend for as long as he could remember, despite the other having been bounced around from place to place, or the fact that Jack came to New York from South Carolina. They had both come out to each other in middle school, and had even tried dating. They’d be together four years in another month.

The tired brunet flipped through his phone before replying to his freckled friend.

{JackieBoy: yoooo, you alright? They’ve said you’ve dropped out of debate.}

{Harteful: I have. I have too much to deal with right now..}

{JackieBoy: baby, what’s wrong?}

{Harteful: ...Okay, so you know how people believe in reincarnation?}

{JackieBoy: yeah?}

{Harteful: Promise you won’t break up with me and call me crazy…}

{JackieBoy: Babe, seriously, what’s wrong?}

{Harteful:..I think...I think I may have been Alexander Hamilton in my past life.}

{JackieBoy: fucking finally}

{Harteful: ?????}

{JackieBoy: what?}

{Harteful: why would you say that?}

{JackieBoy: Why didn’t you tell us you were having dreams?}

{Harteful: wait how do you know about the dreams}

{JackieBoy: Unimportant}

{Harteful: That is pretty damn important}

{JackieBoy: Just text gil and Herc, they;ll explain}

{Harteful: No, I want you to explain what the hell is going on}

{JackieBoy: Okay, um...Do you know anymore about your dreams? Like who they are?}

{Harteful: No, I don’t >.> what is going on}

{JackieBoy: Let’s just say they might be more than just dreams.}

Alex looked at his phone in distaste, gut roiling in confusion and rage at the situation. Why was Jack being so cryptic? He tossed it to the side and flopped down on his bed.

“ What the heck…”

His phone buzzed and Harte ignored it.

It buzzed again and again. Alex silenced it and pulled the duvet over his head. He’d deal with it later.

It buzzed one more time and Alex growled, grabbing it and making to launch the damn thing across the room when a name came up on screen. Aaron.

Well, A-A-Ron, but still.

Reluctantly, Alex answered the man.

“ Alexander.”

“ Well, if it isn’t Aaron Baar, sir.”

“ Enough chit chat, I’ve heard you’ve been having historical dreams.”

“ Eugh, why did they tell you of all people?”

“ Alex, I just want to know.”

“Fine, yes, I have, now leave me alone!”

“Alex,” a voice called from outside his room.

“Shit,” Alex breathed quietly into the receiver.

“ Alexander, why won’t you open up?”

“My name is not Alexander, now leave me alone!”

Alex quickly shut his phone off and tossed it away, tears beginning to bead in his dark brown eyes. He quickly shut them and rubbed them furiously, sliding back under the covers of his bed.

He laid his head down, sighing before drifting off.

The door to his room opened and Henry Harte and his wife Lucy peered in at the breathing bundle.

They exchanged a look and left the room.

He had to learn someday.

\---

Alex woke up at the asscrack of dawn, scrambling up in bed, breathing hard, covered in sweat as he fumbled in his sheets, kicking them around as he gasped for breath. He had dreamt he was writing, but the yellow sky had turned cloudy. It turned bad fast, as ripples of water turned violent, and he was swept away with the current. Surviving on a piece of driftwood, the boy had watched his entire life be washed away. Seventeen. The age Alex Harte was now. 

He grabbed his sides and just cried loudly, sobbing openly into his dark room. He heard footsteps approaching, but it didn’t quell his crying. He had only gotten louder, shaking and choking on his breath.

Lucy Harte ran into the room, followed by Henry, both looking concerned.

“Alex, darling, are you alright?”

“Water… It was everywhere. It was dark, bubbling with rage, and swallowed my town whole. I saw it! It ruined my perfect home, and the kids I had grown up with were gone with it…”

“Alex?”

“He who gave the winds to blow and the lightnings to rage—even him I have always loved and served—his precepts have I observed—his commandments have I obeyed—and his perfections have I adored.—He will snatch me from ruin—he will exalt me to the fellowship of Angels and Seraphs, and to the fulness of never ending joys...”

“..Alex?”

“Say not, we have suffered also, and with-hold your compassion. What are your sufferings compared to these? Ye have still more than enough left.—Act wisely.—Succour the miserable and lay up a treasure in Heaven.”

“Henry!”

Mr. Harte hugged his foster son, tugging him close as the other babbled nonsense, hugging him to his body.

“ The Laurens boy, call him!”

“ But Henry, that’ll just upset-”

“ He knows what’s going on, now go!”

Lucy hurried from the room.

Alex clung to his foster father, crying openly into his shoulder as he choked on his breath, sputtering and flailing.

“I’m Alexander Hamilton...Hamilton, Hamilton...Just you wait.”

Henry rubbed his son’s back soothingly.  
\---

“So, you knew? All of you knew?”

Everyone, including Lafayette and Mulligan, who of which had been called as an emergency by John Laurens, calling it code knowing, was gathered around on the Harte family’s couches, huddled together to preserve space.

“ A reincarnate is pretty easy to see from the time they are little. We, unfortunately, didn’t have that opportunity,” Mrs. Harte trailed off.

“ I knew you were something special, but it took a year of having you with us to fully understand who I was housing when I agreed to take you in.”

“ So, you’re?”

“ Henry and Lucy Knox.”

“ And he’s…”

“ John Laurens.”

“ And you’re all?”

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck.

“ I’ll, um, I’ll let Hercules go first.”

Harte raised a brow, but let it slide, turning to face his friend.

“ Hercules Mulligan, here.”

“ Wait, the spy?”

He beamed proudly.

“ One and the same.”

Alex grinned.

“ I always knew there was something shifty about how you’d get information.”

Hercules laughed, thumping his friend on the back.

“ Old habits die hard.”

Alex turned to face the last of the group.

“ So, Gil, who are you?”

Gilbert took a breath before spewing who he was with little to no stopping for breath.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette”

Alex balked.

“ I’ll, uh, I’ll stick with calling you Gil.”

“ If you so please.”

Alex tried to let this all sink in.

“ How long have you known?”

Jack looked uneasy.

“ About you, or about our own past?”

“ Your own, but I eventually want to hear about what gave me away to you before I even knew who I apparently was a reincarnate of.”

Langton shrugged and the room quieted down as he began to recall when the images had first started coming to him.

“ I was about six or seven when my first image came to me. Nothing bad, just my old father, tons of siblings, and a mother figure that suddenly disappeared. I was puzzled, but I just thought it was a dream. Flashback to when I was twelve, around the time when we came out to each other, and your mannerisms triggered another memory. And just like that it came like whiplash, memory after memory. I felt sick when I saw my own death, which is why i’d leave to go to the nurse so often.”

Alex listened quietly.

Hercules smiled sadly at Jack.

“ After it all fell into place, I researched it after consulting Herc here.”

“ I thought the dude was crazy, but then it happened to me.”

Lafayette shrugged.

“ I’ve known since I was very young.”

Harte turned to face his foster parents.

“ And you?”

Henry rubbed the back of his neck.

“ I didn’t know until I was about twenty, and I went looking for my wife.”

Lucy smiled sadly.

“ I learned after we got together that he was a reincarnate. I thought he was mad, but I loved him. Around twenty four, I got my own visions.”

“ This is insane,” Harte breathed.

“ But it’s true. Given you’re in the early stages, it’ll be about a year before you can fully comprehend-”

“ No, no, I get it. I just mean it’s insane that it took me so long to figure this all out. I was seeing someone else’s memories… Now, since I’m apparently Hamilton, I have only one question.”

Jack balanced his elbows on his knees, looking at his boyfriend.

“ Shoot.”

“ Where’s Burr?”


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Aaron Baar was actually really hard, so I'm proud I got this out.

Aaron Baar knew he was special from when he was little… He got his first vision when he was five, mere glimpses at his past life. He knew his past life was a widow before he even knew what a widow was. He knew he would observe and stay out of trouble. Aaron knew he was different, he just didn’t know how different he actually was.

At twelve, Aaron had come to terms that he was a murderer in his past life, and that if he ever met Hamilton again( unlikely, but who was he to count it out of the equation entirely?) he’d befriend and never betray him.

It was all well and good to think like that, but when he actually met Alex Harte and had officially concluded that the raging ball of tanned skin and brunet hair was indeed his long deceased friend and enemy, he was overcome by grief and had fled. He remembered that very day vividly.

\---

 

“ Pardon me, are you Aaron Baar, sir?”

They couldn’t have been more than thirteen at this time, the other having moved from the Caribbean and transferring to Aaron’s school in New York.

Aaron blinked and smiled, unsure who this boy was, turning to face him. He was a piddly thing, the boy, small, but determined. Aaron could see a hunger in his eyes. It made him sick. It made him want to run far, far away. Who was this?

“That depends, who’s asking?”

“Oh,sure, sir. I’m Alex Harte, I’m at your service, sir. I have been looking for you.”

“I’m getting nervous…”

“Sir, I heard your name in the office… Can you show me around the school, please?”

Aaron had taken the small boy under his wing from that moment on, only to have him snatched away by the Laurens, he meant Langton, boy.

You see, Aaron knew who everyone was even before they did. Some would call it a blessing, but he just considered it a curse. As if it wasn’t enough to be the one who damned someone to an unquelling fate. Of course, at the time, it seemed justified, but now that he thought about it, it was the wrong thing to do.

That’s why during a debate team, when Alex went on a tangent about the Hamiltonian and Jeffersonian formations of the national government, head to head with James Millston and Thomas Jackson, Aaron couldn’t help but be too appalled to help his own partner, just letting Harte take the lead.

Holy shit.

This was Alexander. This was the man he had shot all those years ago.

God, he was fucking annoying.

Aaron would take this secret to his grave if it meant Alex Harte never finding out Aaron Baar was Aaron Burr.

“ Aaron, yo, earth to Aaron!”

Baar blinked as fingers snapped in front of his face. He looked up at the owner of said hand. Jefferso- Jackson was snapping and trying to get his attention.

“ Wha-?”

“ The debate is over, Harte wiped the floor with us. Jesus, why is he so passionate about this?”

Ah, so Jefferson didn’t know yet.

He’d probably get his memories sometime in the future.

Aaron looked around and spotted his friend packing his backpack.

He said goodbye to Thomas and James before heading over to where Alex was beaming proudly.

“ You look like the cat that caught the canary.”

Alex merely grinned.

“They didn’t know what hit’em.”

“Hurricane Harte.”

Alex blinked before laughing.

“You’re being cross, aren’t you, Baar?”

Aaron smiled softly.

“Just stating what I see.”

“Hah, all you do is observe, Aaron.”

“It makes for interesting stories.”

Alex rolled his eyes.

“You mean gossip for you and Theo?”

Aaron blushed.

“ Shhhhhhh.”

Alex laughed, patting his friend on the back.

“Hey, I’m not judging.”

With that, Alex rezipped his bag and went to leave, slipping out of the classroom.

Aaron watched him, expression bittersweet.

How would Alexander react if he knew just who he was?

How could Burr befriend someone before they even knew who they were?

Aaron felt sick, but fought it off.

He kept his mouth shut for another four years before he was prompted by Jack, the very same boy who had stolen his prodigy, to act.

Which is why he called.

In as few words as possible, Aaron had tried to figure out what Hamilton knew. He came up empty handed, and with a pissed off Harte in his court.

Now, while everyone else told their stories, he hid in plain sight. Surely he could keep up his rouse. The only people who knew who he was was Theodosia, and maaaybe Langton, but that was speculation at best.

Plus, it's not like Jack would out him.

It was an unspoken rule of reincarnates not to give yourself, or your mates, away. Prompting Alex had been against all the rules, but Aaron had no doubt that the poor boy was now being assaulted by visions of his past and was turning to his friends, given that it was the reason for his call earlier.

Surely, he was safe, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack Langton gets more character depth in the next few chapters, so keep an eye out for that


	3. Unlikely friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harte meets Hamilton

“You're kidding…”

“I'm not.”

“Baar? I don't believe it,” Alex said.

Jack exchanged a look with Gil and Hercules. It didn't go unnoticed by Alex.

“What?”

“Mon ami…”

“What?”

“Can you not sense it?”

“Why am I getting the feeling this has something to do with my inability to accept that I'm actually Alexander Hamilton?”

“Perhaps,” Gilbert trailed off. 

Jack sighed.

“Why exactly can't you accept that Aaron could be Burr?”

“He's my best friend. If you knew who I was, and he called, that means he would've known, too. I know the story of Alexander and Aaron Burr. I know that duel. I've witnessed it a thousand times. If he is who you say he is, he wouldn't have befriended me.”

Langton rubbed the back of his neck.

“Unless he wants to make amends?”

“Amends? Amends?! He shot me!”

Alex got a strange look in his eyes, quieting down. Oops.

Jack looked shocked.

“ Alexander? Is that you, buddy?”

Lafayette laid a hand over Jack’s, halting him, shaking his head as if to say ‘much too fast, much too soon.’

Alex curled in on himself and Hercules rubbed his back soothingly.

“Why did that happen?”

“Your memories, when fired up, something you were passionate about before, can control you.”

“Jack went to a black lives matter rally with me, and he couldn't stand the injustice, and I guess Laurens took over?” Hercules questioned, watching Langton for confirmation or denial.

Jack looked bitter. 

“I didn't fight for their rights to have them STILL facing injustice two hundred years later. Equal rights, is that really so hard to comprehend?!”

Alex merely watched, blinking.

“...John?”

Jack turned, blinking.

“Yes?”

Alex looked puzzled as pieces were forcibly clicked into place.

“You died..your father wrote a letter and Betsey read it to me…”

Jack looked heartbroken.

“He did?”

“He wrote that you had died…”

Alexander trailed off, staring into the distance.

“Where is my Betsey?”

“We've...we've yet to find her, Alexander.”

Harte deflated.

Like a switch was flipped, Alex was back and Alexander was gone.

“ What in the hell was that?”

“ Reincarnation flashback,” Henry explained. “You remembered something sad, and it sparked it. That's rare.”

Alex shook his head, as if trying to knock the memories free.

He wanted to know what was going on.

“Maybe we should leave him alone for tonight? Let the poor boy sleep on it,” Gilbert suggested.

Henry and Lucy nodded, Jack and Hercules following suit.

“ We've knocked enough of the memories into into existence for the night.”

Jack walked over and hugged Alex before kissing his cheek.

“Text me if you need anything, alright, baby?”

“Alright, love you.”

Hercules rolled his eyes.

“ Yo, earth to Harte and Langton, it's time to gooooo.”

Alex laughed, hugging Hercules. 

“You're just mad you didn't get a hug.”

“Exactly.”

Hercules noogied Alex and headed out.

“Mulligan out. PEACE!”

Alex laughed before hugging Gilbert and yawning.

“Sleep well, Alexandre.”

“I'll try. Let's hope I don't see Burr in my dream.”

Lafayette laughed.

“Fate is a cheeky bitch, isn't it?”

Henry smiled sadly.

“Come, Alex, it's time for bed.”

“Yes, father.”

Lafayette said his final goodbyes and joined Herc and Langton in the car.

“How long do you think Aaron has?”

“A couple days, at most.”

“He's getting his memories back at an alarming pace,” Gilbert said as he buckled himself in.

Herc adjusted his mirrors and pointedly glared at Jack until he buckled up.

Jack shrugged sheepishly.

“Well, you know Alex. He doesn't do things in halves.”

“You never told us how long you've known,” Gilbert said as Herc drove off.

Jack grew quiet. 

“Since I first met him, I knew there was something special. It took us getting together for me to realize my crush was my old lover from before.”

“Poor Eliza,” Hercules said offhandedly.

Jack smiled sadly.

“Yeah, poor girl. But you can't help falling in love with that man…”

Gilbert laughed.

“You're hopeless, mon ami.”

“I know.”

Herc drove in silence, just thinking as Jack and Gilbert talked with one another.

He hoped Alex was okay.  
\---

Fate was, indeed, a cheeky bitch.

Alexander not only dreamt of Burr, he dreamt of Baar. The two were conversing.

Harte was personified in his dream. It was rare he could see himself, but he figured it was for a reason when None other than Alexander Hamilton appeared to him, looking him over.

Alex felt naked under the scrutinizing gaze until the eyes began the twinkle with mirth. Hamilton came closer, kneeling down, staring at Harte, long auburn hair coming free of his ribbon, violet-blue eyes watching the other.

It took Alex a moment to realize Hamilton wanted him to speak. When he tried, his voice cracked. He flushed hotly, face burning.

Alexander laughed, but not condescendingly. He was just amused.

Alexander looked over to Baar but found nothing, not even Burr. It was empty space.

“Alexander?”

The voice shocked him. You never know what someone is going to sound like, so the voice that came out appalled Alex Harte.

“ How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you, Alex Harte.”

“Okay, no disrespect, but Jesus, that was creepy as hell.”

Alexander merely laughed.

“I'm a bit overbearing, yes?”

“With all due respect, sir, you are.”

“As to be expected. That is not what I've brought you here to talk about, however.”

“You brought me here?”

“Why, yes, I have. My subject of talking is about your glimpses at my own life. You've drawn my attention, Harte. To explain reincarnation simply, I am you, and you are me, or, well, you once were me.”

“Did you choose me?”

“No, t’was fate.”

“Do you know my friends?”

“Of course I do.”

“Are they who they say they are?”

“Do you not trust them?”

“Not them…”

“Aaron Baar, then?”

Alex looked up, shocked.

Hamilton waved it off, smiling bitterly.

“I cannot tell you who they are, just as I cannot tell you if your friends are who they say they are.”

Alex frowned and Hamilton pinched his cheek.

“You are so...small. Compressed, even.”

“I will not hesitate to punch a founding father in the face.”

Alexander laughed and then turned, walking away.

Alex tried to follow him but was stuck in place. Hamilton walked to another memory, watching it fondly before inserting himself, leaving Harte alone to watch him mingle with Elizabeth.

Alex could no longer see himself in the dream and the memories faded, leaving him in pleasant silence as he woke up.

Well, now he was even more confused.

Grabbing his phone, he checked the time. It had been exactly six hours on the dot since he had laid down. It felt so short.

He checked his messages, his finger hovering above Jack, John, whoever he was’ name in his phone.

He decided to set the phone aside and try going back to sleep. He'd tell them all later.

Or maybe not.

A little speculation was healthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More on Burr's meeting with Baar in the next chapter
> 
> More jack character development coming soon, I promise, you just have to wait for it


	4. I'm not him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Burr is a dick.

Aaron didn't expect to dream of his reincarnation, most likely how Harte didn't plan on dreaming about Hamilton, yet here he was.

His former version was silent, just staring, observing him, as if expecting the teenager to do something, anything.

Aaron Baar stared right back, not relenting.

“So…You're the one that has the others pitching a fit?”

Baar nodded.

“You're quiet.”

Baar nodded again.

Burr seemed to pause, thinking about his words carefully.

“You know who I am, correct?”

“I've known since I was about six.”

“Smart boy. Now, do you know why I called you to me?”

“Harte.”

“Once again, smart boy.”

Baar remained stone faced and listened in silence, letting Burr have the floor.

“He knows about what reincarnation is, but not who you are specifically. The boy is wise, and will eventually learn to stick the pieces together, but for now you are safe.”

“Safe?”

“My Hamilton died peacefully. This one carries unbridled rage toward his killer.”

Aaron balked.

“You sure?”

“Indeed.”

“...How long do I have?”

“I'm not sure, exactly.”

Baar dragged his hand down his face.

“Brilliant.”

“Just...Don't follow in my footsteps.”

Baar scoffed.

Burr raised a brow.

“He's my friend.”

“And Hamilton was mine. Granted, it wasn't ideal at the time of our duel, but that man had it coming.”

Aaron Baar rolled his eyes.

“I'm not going to shoot him.”

“Then maybe those newfangled metal carriages?”

“I'm not gonna run him over, either! Jesus,”

Burr gave him a pointed look.

Baar merely continued.

“Just because you killed Hamilton doesn't mean I'm going to kill Harte.”

“Oh, my dear boy, you're so naive.”

Baar felt his gut roil.

“What do you mean?”

“Daylight draws near, the night is leaving.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“And so draws an end to our meeting.”

The scene was shifting and Baar found himself in Burr’s shoes at the dueling grounds, only across from him was Harte, pistol aimed at the sky.

“Wait!”

The flash of gunsmoke choked him, but he heard the sickening thud of a body to the ground.  
\---

Aaron shot up in the bed, clutching his arms, breathing hard.

What did that all mean?

He grabbed his phone and dialed the closest person to him since he was orphaned, Theodosia.

It rang a few times before the dial tone was replaced with talking.

“Aaron, it's the middle of the night.”

“I know.. I know. I just.. can we meet? In person?”

There was the sound of shuffling from the other line and a deep sigh.

“Yeah, of course, let me just get dressed. Where did you have in mind?”

“The coffee shop.”

“It's open at this time?”

“Yeah, it's 24 hour.”

“Poor employees.”

Aaron laughed a bit shakily.

Theodosia frowned on the other side of the phone.

“Aaron, are you alright?”

“No.”

Theodosia wriggled into her jeans, hopping to get them on before slipping and falling, a loud thud resounding from the action, phone falling off her desk, smacking her in the face.

“Ow, shit.”

Aaron blinked at all the noise.

“Theo?”

“I'm fine, I just fell down.”

“Sounded like it.”

She laughed a bit, slipping her shirt over her head and toeing on some flats.

“Are you even ready to go, Baar?”

Aaron blushed darkly on the other line, looking down at his pajamas.

“Of course.”

“Liar. You were never good at lying, Aaron. Especially to me,” Theodosia reminded the teenager.

Aaron blew a raspberry into the receiver.

Theodosia laughed.

“You dork. Cmon, get out of bed and get dressed.”

Aaron did as he was told, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear.

When he was finished he grabbed his keys. 

“You need a ride?”

“Please,” Theodosia confirmed.

Aaron smiled.

“I'll be by soon.”  
\---

“Wait, you saw Aaron Burr?”

Aaron looked over his cup of coffee, nodding and taking a sip.

“The fuck.”

“It was so strange. Not to mention incredibly cryptic.”

“Did he say his reason?”

“It was a warning of sorts.”

Theodosia took a sip.

“About what?”

“Hamilton.”

She choked on her drink.

“You mean Harte?”

“Indeed.”

She wiped her mouth and frowned.

“Was he in your dream? What was the warning?”

“Yes, he was. Near the very end, at the dueling grounds, Hamilton was replaced with Harte… I… I shot him. I didn't even mean to, I was just inserted at that very moment…”

Theodosia reached across the table, taking Aaron's hand.

“Hey, hey, shhhhh. It's okay, hon.”

“He was warning me that I had a set amount of time… for what I don't know.”

“Was it about Alex?”

“Yes.”

“That's horrible. Your reincarnation figure is an asshole.”

“And yours left mine alone for years and made him bitter.”

“I died of sickness!”

“I know I'm just embracing my inner asshole.”

“Too bad you didn't have to dig very deep.”

Aaron laughed before getting quiet again.

“What do you think it means?”

“I think it means you have a choice to make, Aaron.”

Baar sighed.

“So, have you found Jacques?”

“I don't think he reincarnated.”

“Good, I don't want to have to fight for your hand again.”

Theodosia laughed.

“We made his life so difficult, didn't we?”

Aaron shrugged, smiling softly at Theodosia.

“What would you do in my situation?”

“I'd confront it.”

“Confront it..?”

“No more waiting, Burr.”

Aaron flinched.

“I'm not him.”

“And Harte isn't Hamilton, but that doesn't fix your past. You know how memories work. You watched it happen.”

Aaron hid behind his coffee cup.

“You can't always wait for it.”

“I know I can't, but Aaron Burr wouldn't have warned me if it wasn't serious.”

“Aaron Burr is a dick.”

“Um, ow.”

“You're still not him.”

Aaron sighed, laying his head on the table.

“Can I hire a bodyguard? Is that a thing I can do?”

“Yes, because the tiny orphan immigrant will cause you immense physical harm with his tiny arms,” Theodosia mused sarcastically. 

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Were you this sassy before?”

“Yes, and you loved it.”

He laughed a bit, lifting his head back up.

“I still do.”

“Then take my advice, if you love me so much. I may not be your wife, but I was. Once.”

“You don't have to remind me, love.”

“Just listen. You need to talk to Alex.”

Aaron made to open his mouth and she shushed him with her finger.

His mouth clicked shut.

“Just speak, and explain who you are. He either takes it well, or he takes it badly, but he's small and you could take him if he starts swinging.”

Aaron listened, smiling mirthlessly. 

“So he either forgives me or he hits me?”

“Basically.”

“Great…”

Theodosia yawned, stretching in her chair.

“I'm tired as hell, and we have a test soon, so I'm going to try to sleep, alright? Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

Aaron got up, grabbing their coffees and balancing his car keys on a finger.

“Yeah, that's it. Come on, I'll drive you home.”

“You're an angel, love.”

“More a person stuck in purgatory, but thank you.”

Aaron drove her home, making sure she got inside safely before heading back home.

He paused on his steps, finger hovering over a contact in his phone.

Steeling his resolve, Aaron hit the button and wrote up a text, hitting send and heading inside.

{A-A-Ron: We need to talk.}

He didn't expect a reply.

{Harteful: Yes, we do.}

Aaron felt his gut churn.

This was it.

{A-A-Ron: See you at school.}


	5. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops

Daybreak came too quickly and Aaron blinked it sleepily out of his eyes. 

He felt disgusting. Who the hell would willingly stay up if it meant feeling sick in the morning?

Groaning, Baar sat up and held his stomach, blinking again. What time was it?

He reached for his phone, managing to launch it across the floor with his finger.

“Dammit..”

“Aaron!”

The teenager cringed at the voice of his foster parent, Ms. Baar, formerly Susanna Hampton. Baar considered it luck that he had his reincarnated former foster parent, but he deeply missed his sister as well. 

Guess he was doomed to be alone.

“Aaron, you're gonna be late!”

He cursed under his breath and hurriedly got dressed, throwing on a hoodie over his clothes and running to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and running out the door, car keys in hand.

“Bye, mom!”

“Be safe!”

\---

Alexander couldn't sleep.

He hadn't expected a text. It was four in the morning for fuck’s sake, yet he still got one. From Bur- Baar of all people.

He felt himself dreading everything, but putting on a facade of calm.

Why did Baar want to meet? What did they have to talk about? Was it about reincarnation? Did Aaron want to kill him again?

For the next two hours Alex sat rigid as a board.

When his alarm went off, Alex was shocked out of his thoughts and groaned. Ew, school.

He went to his closet and opened it, surveying his clothes before grabbing whatever his hand landed on and wearing that. It was a green sweater and some jeans. He found it kind of funny, in a sick way. Wasn't Hamilton known for that awful metallic green coat?

Dammit, fate!

Harte wriggled into his shoes, brushed his teeth, and ran for the bus.

Ew, public transportation.  
\---

Harte and Baar arrived in first period around the same time, but sat away from each other. The school was in shock. Weren't they the best of friends?

Except Thomas, who found it hilarious.

He had yet to figure it out, but he just did not like Harte, like to the point that if he was on fire, he'd drink the water.

Jackson decided, fuck it, and sat next to Harte.

Aaron winced, but played it off as a yawn, stretching. He was exhausted. Damn cryptic historical figures.

Harte raised a brow.

“Yes, Jackson?”

“Jem is sick today.”

“James is always sick.”

“True; anyway, he's gone so I'm here to bug you, since he can't stop me. Also, you look like ass, when's the last time you slept?”

“How is it you can bug me, and also care when I last slept?”

“A talent, now answer my question.”

“Last night.”

Thomas raised a brow.

“What, your boyfriend coerce you into sleeping by sharing a bed?”

“One, that's none of your fucking business, and two, no, I went willingly.”

“Oh, I bet.”

“Fuck off, Jefferson.”

Thomas stopped laughing.

“Did you just call me Jefferson?”

“No, you're hearing things, you twit.”

“No, you definitely said Jefferson.”

“Fight me, you shit.”

“You can't solve everything with fights, Harte.”

“Just because you're a passive fuck doesn't mean I am.”

“Spitfire.”

“I am not!”

“You're a termagant hothead, face it, Harte.”

Every word out of Thomas’ mouth made Alexander boil.

“And you're a meek, servile little coward, too afraid of mussing up your appearance to fight back,” he bit back.

Thomas’ eye twitched.

“What'd you just say to me, you filthy little immigrant?”

Harte felt a familiar feeling and a voice in the back of his head told him to keep pushing. Something, or someone, had to give.

“I merely called you what you are, or are you too ridiculously in your own world to comprehend my words. Do I need to break it down, Jackson? Do you need me to dumb it down?”

Jackson glared, making to retort when the teacher, a mister Wade, stopped him short.

“Harte, Jackson! Is my lesson not riveting enough for you both?”

Alex laughed a bit and Wade glared, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, Mr. Wade. I just had to put this twunk in his place.”

Aaron choked on his breath.

Charles Lesley snickered.

Alex turned, glaring.

“You shut your mouth, Charlie Lee Lesley!”

“Mr. Harte!”

Alex balked.

Jack, who was late, walked in with a note, blinking. Mr. Wade looked pissed. He turned and walked back out.

“Sir-”

“I've had enough of this. Jackson, Baar, switch places.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Why am I being punished for something he did?”

“I thought it would be better for both of you if you served as a barrier, Mr. Baar.”

“A wall? You really think this is a good idea?”

“Yes, now move.”

“Yes, sir…”

Thomas and Aaron got up and switched places.

Jack was watching from the door window as Aaron and Thomas were made to get up and move, noticing the strange look Harte shot Baar when he sat down.

Langton reentered the room, clearing his throat to draw Wade’s attention to himself, stopping the other from drilling Harte and Jackson further.

“Sorry I'm late. Doctor’s appointment.”

The air of anxiety and disappointment melted away and Mr. Wade sighed heavily. 

“Mr. Langton, come take a seat. Try not to disrupt class next time you're late,” Wade replied, taking the note and shuffling through some folders before taking the slip and setting it inside, shutting the folder and slipping it back into his desk.

John was late often, so George had taken it upon himself to have Langton’s file on hand, instead of having to shuffle through the Manila folder hell that was his sorting space.

Jack slipped into his seat behind Alex, twiddling his thumbs while surveying the scene of Baar and Harte. The two were avoiding staring at each other. 

John got a bad feeling in his gut as he continued to watch the two and their lack of playful banter. They were like stone, just taking notes in silence. 

Surely, they hadn't confronted each other on the matter he was thinking of?

No, Alex would be livid.

He seemed meek, unlike himself. 

Jack wanted to comfort him, but before he got the chance, the bell had rung and Alex was out the door, bolting from Aaron’s side.

Jack decided he'd deal with this at lunch.

Aaron looked pitiful as he packed his backpack back up and followed his classmates out. Now he really regretted changing his schedule to match Alexander’s at the beginning of the year. Was it too late to change it?  
\---

“Do you think they know?” Jack asked Gilbert as he sat with his lunch tray, flopping down onto the bench and poking at his fries as if they’d grow legs and walk off.

“I doubt it,” Gilbert answered, swatting Jack’s hand from the fries. “ It isn’t going to bite you, Langton.”

“How traumatizing do you think it would be to be bitten by a fry?”

“Are you high?” Hercules asked, genuinely curious.

“No, but I understand why you’d think that. Anyway, back to the question at hand,” the tanned freckled male looked around to make sure Alex wouldn’t suddenly intrude in their personal venting bubble. He normally loved the guy, he was dating him for fuck’s sake, but he couldn’t have the other be here right now, there was too much to be discussed, and the Caribbean immigrant was the topic. “Burr and Alexander are acting aloof, but also terrified of each other. Seriously, I’ve never seen Aaron so pitiful.”

“ I saw Alex on the way to homeroom,” Hercules commented.

“ Did he look like a statue to you?”

“Actually, yeah, he did. Very stiff.”

Jack snickered and Hercules thwapped him with his hand.

“I did not sign up for your humor, Laurens.”

“Mulligan, you wound meeeeeeee.”

The group laughed, but quieted down as Aaron passed their table, going straight for the loneliest table in the entire cafeteria, where you went to be alone, or if you were brand new and didn’t know who to trust.

They shared a look.

“Yo, Aaron, come join us.”

The man stopped, gulping. Shit, what did he do now? He turned and faced the group, cautiously raking his eyes across each of them, trying to read their expressions.

“I really shouldn-”

“Burr. Sit.”

Aaron froze.

“I’m not sure you meant to say that, but I’m Baar, not Burr,” Aaron tried to play off.

“ Aaron Burr, same man who shot Alexander Hamilton on July 11th, 1804. Come, take a seat.”

Aaron looked conflicted, but eventually sat.

“Soooooo,” Langton said, sliding closer. “What’s up with you and Alex? You’re usually inseparable. Hell, he doesn’t even hang around me like that and I’m his boyfriend.”

“We’re...fighting.”

“Interesting.”

Aaron stared down at his lap.

“You didn’t call me over here for casual banter, did you?”

“Haha, nope.”

Jack got serious, eyes narrowing.

“Does he know who you are?”

“He doesn’t have a clue, but he’s starting to figure it out. I don’t know if I should rip the bandaid off and tell him, or let him figure it out…”

Gilbert made a clicking noise with his tongue.

“Are you still emotionally constipated,” Hercules asked gracelessly.

Aaron glared.

“Classy.”

“Hey, we’re just worried about Alex is all.”

“Forget the fact that you were all my friend before he transferred here. Thanks, everyone.”

“Awwwww, c’mon, Burr, we love youuuu~”

Aaron made a face.

“I’m not him.”

“And I’m not John Laurens, but I sure as hell was at one point. Face it, you’re as much Aaron Burr as you are Aaron Baar.”

“What?”

The entire group froze.

Aaron felt himself freeze up like a vice.

That was Alexander’s voice.

Shit.

They turned to face him.

Alex looked heartbroken.

“Aaron?”

Baar hurriedly got up.

“Alexander-”

The sadness started turning into anger, and anger to disgust.

“How dare you! You, you’ve used me for years! You liar! How dare you pretend to be my friend when you were the reason I was in any of these situations in the first place? You never earned that right! How long have you even known?!”

Aaron felt his face burn in shame.

Laurens ate his fries, watching shit go down. Lafayette tried taking one and John smacked his hand.

“Since debate class, eighth grade.”

“And you stayed my friend?” Hamilton was bristling, stuck in a state of memory where things rapid fire propelled themselves into existence. He was having an overload in his senses, but it was what he needed to fuel his anger. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? God, you horrible man. I had an affair and I’m STILL not as bad as you are.”

Aaron could hear his voice shake, the normally calm boy shaking with it.

“You don’t understand! I meant to make amends, to stop this from happening again! I don’t want to fight all the time, Alexander!”

“No, you’re not allowed to make amends, not when you didn’t even TRY to fix your mistake. You ran away from your problems, leaving my wife to deal with everything! I had kids! You had a kid! She was an adult, mine were little! How fucking dare you pretend life is okay when I was most vulnerable!”

Alex slammed his tray down on the table and dragged Burr by his shirt to him before drawing his fist back and throwing it right back into the taller man’s face.

Hamilton then left.

Jack watched him go and got up, grabbing Burr and whistling for Hercules to help him get the boy to the nurse.

“Yo, Laf, make up some bullshit reason why Alex got so pissed while we take Burr to the nurse.”

“On it!”

Well, that went bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually too happy with how this chapter came out. It felt rushed, but I didn't know what to do to make it flow more fluidly


	6. Our little secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: The Schuyler sisters

“Have you heard about the debacle in lunch hall?”

Elizabeth Sawyer blinked, looking up from her project, long hair tied back carefully to keep it out of her lab work.

“Oh, about Aaron and Alex?”

Margaret Peggy Sawyer nodded enthusiastically.

“No, nothing at all. I know there was fisticuffs, but not the full extent of the knowledge of the fight.”

“See, that's the thing,” Peggy said, handing her sister a flask of purple liquid, “No one knows why Alex was so mad, or why Aaron was cowering from the tiny man. He could take him easily.”

Elizabeth shrugged, but looked intrigued, taking the flask and laying it in its designated spot.

“Angelica is good at getting information on things,” the black haired woman suggested.

Peggy grinned.

“Now you're thinking like a Sawyer.”  
\---

Aaron groaned in dismay when the second to final bell of the day rang. He had spent most of the rest of the day in the nurse’s office, hiding away from the world, but eventually had to venture back into the wild, and was immediately bombarded by suspecting figures on just what had happened. What was he supposed to tell them?

‘Oh, I’m Aaron Burr, a reincarnate that shot Alexander Hamilton in a past life, and my best friend, Alex Harte, was Hamilton, and he found out, and that’s why he punched me in the face.’

Yeah, no.

He settled for shrugging or giving incredibly vague answers. No one really pressed any further.

His lip was busted, but wasn’t bleeding anymore. It would crack and split if he smiled though, so there was that. Ha. Talk less, smile more didn’t feel quite as comforting anymore.

He was making it to his second to last class, English, when he was rammed into by an eager Angelica Sawyer, the latter blinking as Aaron picked himself back up, offering a hand to her to help the young woman up as well.

“Angelica Sawyer, to what do I owe the pleasure?,” the former spoke after the young lady was up off the floor.

“Have you seen Alex?”

Aaron grimaced.

“Not since lunch, no.”

Angelica cursed beneath her breath.

“Elizabeth and Peggy said he’s not in his classes.”

Alarm bells started going off in Aaron’s head.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, he’s not anywhere to be seen.”

“Have you asked John?”

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Jack!- I’m sorry, I meant Jack.”

Angelica raised a brow.

“Langton?”

“Yes, him. Have you asked him?”

“He says Alex bailed at lunch. Won’t spread any more information, but judging from your lip, there was fisticuffs. So, tell me, Baar, just what got Alex so riled up?”

Aaron looked at his feet.

“Nothing important.”

“You are best friends.”

“We WERE best friends...We’re not even friends anymore. Now, if you will, I’m going to be late for class if we continue our discussion,” Baar said, scooching passed Angelica and trying to get into class. Angelica took his hand, holding it, and consequently, him in place.

“Aaron, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing..I’m seriously going to be late if you don’t let me go, though. I’d rather not have that, so please release me.”

The dark-skinned woman let him go, puzzled look on her face. He raced past her into class. She got to her own class, which was right down the hall, and sat down before the bell had even rung. She scowled when she realized Aaron had lied.  
\---

{JackieBoy: Alex where the hell are you}

{Harteful: I went home}

{JackieBoy: wtf why}

{Harteful: i punched burr in the face}  
{Harteful: i’m gonna be suspended might as well fucking bail}

{JackieBoy: okay tru but still}  
{JackieBoy: you missed a quiz in Mr. Asley’s class}

{Harteful: he’s an idiot i don’t care}

{JackieBoy: Alex that is your teacher}

{Harteful: he spends more time at home than at work how the hell is he not fired}

{JackieBoy: idk man i just know you missed a quiz}  
{JackieBoy: we failed any way}

{Harteful:gjgj}

{JackieBoy: you sassy boy}

{Harteful: ;D}

{JackieBoy: i just snorted in front of the entire class i hope you’re proud}

{Harteful: extremely}  
{Harteful: btw how’s burr}

{JackieBoy: you busted his face}

{Harteful: noice}

{JackieBoy: not nice you maimed him you idiot}

{Harteful: and he shot me, your point}

{JackieBoy: he shot Alexander Hamilton there’s a difference}

 

{Harteful: okay off topic but has John Laurens ever come to you in a dream?}  
{Harteful: Because Hamilton came to me and was cryptic asfuck}

 

{JackieBoy: I can't say he has}  
{JackieBoy: how'd it go?}

{Harteful: he called me and I quote “small, compressed even”}  
{Harteful: how well do you think it went}

{JackieBoy: haha you got dissed by a founding father version of yourself}

{Harteful: I will bite you}

{JackieBoy: kinky}

Alex glared at his phone and sighed, setting it down. The Harte’s had work until about five, so they wouldn't know he skipped.

His phone buzzed and Alex rolled his eyes, picking it back up, blinking at the unknown number. He just let it ring, and a voicemail began to play.

“Alex? It's Elizabeth. I got your number from Jack Langton. Are you alright? Um, I guess that's all I wanted to say. If you get this, you can reach me at-”

Alex picked up the phone.

“Elizabeth Sawyer?”

Elizabeth blinked at the voice before grinning.

“Alex! Yes, this is Elizabeth Sawyer. Please, call me Eliza.”

“Eliza,” Alexander said, trying the taste on his tongue, enjoying a familiar burn that began, however odd it was. “Aren't you in school?”

“Free period.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Where have you been, Alex?”

“I,uh…” He felt like she could rip him apart for answers, and he'd let her.

“Alex?”

Damn that sweet voice.

“I bailed after punching someone. I'm kinda at home now.”

“Alex Harte,” she reprimanded.

“Elizabeth Sawyer,” he retaliated.

She huffed on the other line.

“We're all worried, Alex.”

“I'll be back tomorrow. I just…needed to clear my head.”

“Fair,” Eliza finally relented.

Alex chuckled.

“No need to sound so upset, Betsey.”

It had come out of his mouth before he could stop himself, the familiarity getting to him and triggering the memories.

Eliza froze, phone clattering to the floor.

Alex’s eyes widened in shock and he made to hang up, a quiet voice stopping him short.

“...Alexander?”

Alex ran a hand through his hair, swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat.

“Y-yes?” He croaked.

“We, um, we need to talk, in private, when you get the chance.”

“A-Alright.”

Alex kicked himself for stuttering so much. He was better than this.

Eliza wished him well and ended the call, running a hand through her hair, biting her lip. Well, shit.


	7. Look at where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy TheoBurr action, and an overuse of lyrics rewritten to make sense because the musical is gr8 and we need more of it mentioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter bc no inspiration
> 
> I'm tired, someone cuddle me to sleep pls

Theodosia dipped a rag in water, dabbing at Aaron's lip, which had begun bleeding while they were talking.

Aaron sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

“Oh, stop sighing like an old maid.”

“Would you rather I bitch and moan?”

Theodosia flicked his forehead.

Aaron blinked, glaring.

“Hey, let me have this. I got punched in the freaking face, I'm allowed to be bitter about it.”

His friend rolled her eyes.

“Behold, world, my husband.”

Aaron cracked a smile, which he tried to hide, but Theo saw it.

“My, my, Aaron, was that a smile?”

“No, not at all. Don't you know I'm incapable of emotions?”

Theodosia burst into laughter, prodding Aaron with her finger before continuously poking him in the side, listening to him laugh.

“You should really show this side of you more often, I've missed it.”

“Like Aaron Burr ever smiled.”

“You know he did, especially with wife and daughter.”

“We should bring Theodosia back,” Aaron said, looking determined.

Theo blinked.

“Bring her back?”

“Not literally bring her back from the dead; just make another baby.”

Theodosia blushed darkly.

“AARON.”

He blinked and thought about what he had said before balking and blushing as well.

“W-Wait I didn't mean it like that!”

His girlfriend giggled, patting him on the back. Baar wilted, curling in on himself, embarrassed.

“Y’know, if you want a baby, eventually, I'm not objecting.”

Aaron choked on his spit.

“We're seventeen!”

“I said eventually, not ‘take me now.’”

Aaron gave her a pointed look and Theodosia giggled, pulling him closer, booping his nose.

He smiled and winced, frowning at the stinging sensation.

Theo went back to dabbing Aaron's bloody lip.

“So, what happened, exactly?”

“Well,”

\---

“How long have you known?”

“A month of so.”

“Eliza, you should have told me.”

“I swore I would never tell a month ago.”

“No.”

“I begged and pleaded for you not to know.”

“You should have told me.”

“I’m not sorry. I knew you’d go and have your fun.”

“But it’s not fun.”

“But you deserve a chance at freedom. Look around, look around, at how lucky you are to be alive right now.”

“Will you relent and tell me about your life? I’m scared and I don’t want to fight.”

“I can tell you about our lives. Look around, look around. Look at where you are, look at where you started. The fact that you’re alive is a miracle, just cling to hope and it’ll be enough. And if you’re true, I can see the best in you, I can tell you what I know, just come with me, and that’ll be enough.”

Eliza held out her hand to Alexander, quietly beckoning him to follow her. He took it and they walked down the street. They were skipping school but it wasn’t that bad, not when there was so much they didn’t know.

Jack raised a brow as he watched them go. Why was he always here to witness things that he shouldn’t? Wait, were Eliza and Alex holding hands? What the hell?!

“I don’t pretend to know, the troubles that you’re facing, the worlds you keep erasing, and creating in your mind, but I’m not afraid, after all, we once married. As long as you don’t run at the end of the day, that’ll be enough,” Eliza spoke as they walked down the main street of New York, waiting at a bus stop for a light to turn green. “You can’t recall your legacy, you can’t recall money?”

Alex shook his head and they began walking again, the latter confused as Eliza continued talking. He hadn’t known her to speak so much, but he felt a familiar burn in his brain as she did, not to mention a fondness he hadn’t felt before blossoming. Was it past love, or new love? He couldn’t tell. Oh, she was speaking again.

“Do you know where we’re headed?”

“No, you’ve kinda just been talking nonsense.”

Eliza pinched his hand and he drew it back with a yelp.

“Rude. Anyway, we’re going to Alexander Hamilton’s old house.”

“ The memorial Grange?”

“Exactly.”

“Eliza, you can’t honestly think this is going to work. We went there for a fieldtrip once and I felt nothing. No pull, no weird emotions, just a slight boredom.”

“You weren’t having feelings back then because you were too young, Alexander.”

Harte sighed and Sawyer grinned as they approached the memorial Grange.

“C’mon~!”

She grabbed his hand and lead him to the house.

He groaned, this was going to be a long day.


	8. This isn't what I wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the memorial Grange, things get heated, memories get replaced, and unfaithfulness rears its ugly head once more.
> 
> Mentions of Philip Hamilton, but only mentions

What did Alex expect? To suddenly have all his memories? To feel nothing at all and disappoint Elizabeth Sawyer? Honestly, the boy was stumped.

So when they went to the tour and were led through the room and Alex felt a sense of longing, it was more than just a little surprising. When Eliza and him rounded the corner and he saw a portrait of his reincarnate’s face, Alexander was filled with a dull sense of wanting, and he had to look away. Some people watched him in confusion as Alexander brought a hand to his temple, rubbing it. Eliza, however, grinned, grabbed his hand, and lead him through the rest of the tour like a tiny guide, giving little quips when the guide said something interesting, which was often. Alexander found it oddly endearing, watching his reincarnate’s wife with something akin to wonder and awe.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but Alexander ignored it in favor of listening to Eliza asking questions about Alexander Hamilton, to which the guide gave her best answers, not knowing just who she was talking to. Alexander found it slightly cute.

The tour strayed into the bedrooms of the Hamilton’s. Alex paused outside the door of Philip Hamilton, refusing to walk in. Eliza sensed his unease and blinked, watching her former husband carefully, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his brain; a useless feat. Dark eyes clouded with tears and she rushed forward, holding him close as he began to silently shake as memories overtook him.

 

‘ “Daddy, daddy, look~!”

Alexander watched his son approach with a roll of parchment and a quill held in his tiny fist, ink perched at the pintip of the feather, prepared to write.

Eliza was there with him, holding her gowns to keep them off the floor as she followed after him up the stairs, grinning widely, looking lovely as she blossomed with warmth and love for her family, carrying their daughter.

“My name is Philip, I am a poet~!”

Philip and Eliza stared at Alex, eyes full of love and joy.

There was a sound of rustling parchment and suddenly it was all Alexander could see, heaps and heaps of letters flooding the room. His, Laurens’, Angelica’s, Eliza’s, Philip’s, and Maria Reynolds’.

Alex covered his eyes and the redheaded Alexander snatched his hands, forcing him to watch as Philip grew up and then got shot, forcing him to see only parts of his son growing up, because he was never there. There were only some memories of his children. Eliza danced around the room, writing letters that burned immediately, ash staining her pretty blue gown.

The scene shifted painfully and all the man could see was the light fade from his wife’s eyes, dressed in the ashy black, blue fading darkly, but quickly, with every letter written; mourning. 

Alexander squeezed his eyes shut, clutching at his hair. When he came back to, he was in his old house, but the he could see his reincarnate talking to his son. Philip was holding a box with two sets of revolutionary guns, dueling weapons. He tried reaching out, but couldn’t, the other Alexander turning to face him as his son dashed off. 

He watched as Philip aged before his eyes, facing a man Alexander recognized as the culprit that had taken his son’s life, the papers falling away to reveal the same dueling ground the man had lost his own life at.

He felt his gut twist as words played in his head, Philip’s sweet voice shaking as he spoke.

“And I’m a little nervous, but I can’t show it.” 

Alexander was stuck in place as Philip turned to face him, looking him over. In this vision, Philip was only two years older than him, but he watched Alexander as if he were older, wiser, and his eyes spoke of betrayal and hurt.

The Reynolds Pamphlet.

“I’m sorry, I’m a Hamilton with pride. You talk about my father, I cannot let it slide.”’

 

The tour guide paused, blinking.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

Alex was sobbing heavily, curling in on himself, trying to get away, held firmly in place by Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, ever the genius, made up a quick story of how Alex found it heartbreaking what happened to the boy in history, and how George Eaker was a coward.

“Ah, yes, Philip Hamilton died in 1801, after a fatal gunshot wound got infected. It is said he could’ve also bled out, but that is speculation,” the guide sympathized. “If it makes you feel any better, sir, the culprit died a little later of tuberculosis. I always found that interesting.”

Alexander rubbed his weepy eyes with his sleeve.

“I didn’t mean to disrupt the tour. Please, continue,” He insisted tiredly.

He had gotten more images flitting around his brain as they had progressed in the tour, but nothing cut as deep as his children. Seeing Angie, his dearest daughter, go mad drove him to another fit. Entering his own bedroom had brought images of his dearest Betsey, but also Maria. Images of the parlor showed him quality family time, but also heated discussions with Aaron Burr and Jefferson. Where was Jefferson? Where was Madison? Where were any of his kids?

The end of the tour came and Alexander took the girl’s hand and they walked back out, the boy teary-eyed, but more enlightened. However, that didn’t mean he was going to go back into the grange and deal with repressed memories head on ever again. He had the right mind to tear into Eliza for bringing him back, but she had no idea what he saw, and he couldn’t do that to her, not after what she had said and done to help him.

His phone buzzed again and Alex fished the cellular device from his pocket, flipping it on and scrolling through his messages, holding up a finger to Eliza when she stopped walking to question him. She waited patiently.

{JackieBoy: hey babe where u going}

{JackieBoy: not that it matters but we had a test}

{JackieBoy: …}

{JackieBoy: i um}

{JackieBoy: i love you, don’t ever forget that, alright?}

{JackieBoy: are u okay?}

{JackieBoy: alex}

{JackieBoy: i found something really cool online?}

{JackieBoy: shit i’m spamming i’m sorry i know you hate that}

Alex looked exasperated down at his phone, quickly typing up replies to the texts, although they had been sent at least ten minutes apart, the longest waiting time close to an hour when Alex checked the timestamp on the message.

{Harteful: chillllllllll}

The reply was instantaneous.

{JackieBoy: oh thank god}

{JackieBoy: you scared the shit out of me}

{JackieBoy: i thought elizabeth and you got kidnapped or something}

Alex paused, unsure.

{Harteful: i didn’t say i was out with eli}

{JackieBoy: i saw you two leave school together around lunch time}

{JackieBoy: just kinda putting two and two together}

{JackieBoy: anyway, i found some letters online that john and alex had sent each other, and i think it might help spark some memories?}

{JackieBoy: nothing raunchy, john church took care to censor those ones}

Alexander chuckled at his phone and Eliza raised a brow.

He lifted his head and waved her over. He trusted her with his life, even though they hardly knew each other in this life. One of their hands were clasped together tightly, and had been all throughout the tour.

She peered over wearily, watching the texts as Harte scrolled back up to show her what was going on.

Eliza giggled as she read the latest text, but looked puzzled at the rest. Harte could see she was trying to stick the words together in her reincarnate’s head, as well as her own. She was a brilliant girl, she just hadn’t been aware of Hamilton’s bisexual side. It wasn’t like she would’ve tried him for being a sodomite, but it’s also not exactly something he spewed to his dearest Betsey.

“You and this Jack-”

“John,” Harte corrected.

“John.”

“Yes. Laurens.”

“Ah-” She looked a bit relieved. “ Was that why you wrote in private, my dear?”

Harte shrugged.

“ I couldn’t tell you. I don’t have those memories.”

Elizabeth blinked, tilting her head. Alexander brushed some of her raven hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She smiled at him and his heart stuttered. His cheeks flushed and he felt his mouth hanging open slightly. Eliza stared at him through lidded eyes, biting her lip beautifully. He became immensely aware of the feeling of blooming love and gulped, looking back down at his phone. Jack had been typing to him, wondering why he had stopped replying.

{JackieBoy: so what’d ya say?}

{JackieBoy: wanna come over and read some obviously sexual letters from our old counterparts aha?}

{JackieBoy: ah shit did i lose you again?}

{JackieBoy: earth to alexxxxxxxxx}

Alexander blushed and quickly typed back, very aware of Eliza leaning into his side.

{Harteful: yeah, that sounds good}

{Harteful: hey can we talk when i get there}

{Harteful: i went to alexander’s old home and holy fuck i can remember so much shit}

{Harteful: i swear i cried for an hour}

{JackieBoy: NICE}

{JackieBoy: not the crying part that kinda sucks a lot}

{JackieBoy: i hate seeing you cry}

{JackieBoy: you’re so much prettier when you smile, my dear boy

Eliza read the last text and chuckled as Alex quickly shoved the phone back into his pocket, red bleeding into his face up to the tips of his ears and staining his neck.

“My dear boy?”

“Shut up, I think it’s a Laurens’ quirk he retained.”

“Kinky~”

“And I thought you were innocent, yeesh!”

“Surely you know better, Alexander!”

“Betsey is a naughty, naughty girl,” He cooed lovingly, laughing.

“Shut up, you’re scaring people,”Elizabeth laughed and Alex pinched her cheek. 

She grabbed his wrist and pinched it back. He tickled her, tugging her closer, grinning, nuzzling her as he tickled her. 

Eliza slapped his hands, laughing loudly as he blew raspberries into her shoulder. She shoved him away finally and smiled at him, breathless. He leaned closer, holding both of her hands, hair blowing comically in the wind, cheeks flushed and eyes lidded as he stared at her.

She leaned into his chest, heart thudding in her own. He leaned down to kiss her and her eyes widened. She shoved him away again, stepping away, swaying on her feet, dark eyes holding hurt and confusion. 

She straightened her resolve, jaw tight, heart breaking.

“Go, your dear Laurens has things to show you.”

Alex felt a pang in his chest.

“I know, but-”

Eliza smiled a strained smile, turning.

“Go, Alexander, we can talk later.”

“Betsey…”

She smiled at him and it broke his heart at how hurt this girl looked despite trying to be so strong. Eliza let go of Harte’s hand and hurriedly walked away, hair whipping in the wind as she dashed through the streets, tears stinging at her eyes.

Alex watched her, biting his lip and hurrying away as well, heading to the subway to get to where he needed to be. John lived in the furthest part of the city in an apartment. 

He watched the scenery pass by, bleak, and gray, staring down at his phone while he listened to music to drown out the roar of the subway cart. He was alone, surprisingly, but that was perfectly fine with him. He didn’t need anyone with him while he stewed over what he was doing with his life. Following self proclaimed footsteps?

Alexander wasn’t Hamilton, and Hamilton wasn’t Harte. They were two completely different people, but this new information had him reeling. That was his Betsey. That was his wife, and he wanted to see her smile. He thought he had been doing good.

{Harteful: hey you home yet?}

{JackieBoy: yeah, what’s up? When ya gonna get here boi}

{Harteful: calm thine beautiful titties}

{Harteful: i’m in the subway :( }

{JackieBoy: haha my titties are gorgeous thanks for acknowledging that fact}

{JackieBoy: and ew subways are gross}

{Harteful: tell me about it i keep finding gum in places and i’m like dUDE}

{JackieBoy: hey did you know herc sewed a kickass revolutionary coat like what the boys wore during the war?}

{JackieBoy: it’s so cool!}

{Harteful: i didn’t know that wtf why does he never talk to me}

{JackieBoy: lmfao did you forget to check group chat again}

{Harteful: …}

{Harteful: shut the fuck up}

{JackieBoy: haha i fucking knew it}

After a half an hour of casual texting, Alex couldn’t take it anymore and did what he dubbed best. He outed himself, just like Alexander had done before.

{JackieBoy: lee had it coming}

{JackieBoy: anyway that’s why i’m suspended}

{Harteful: dude um can i tell you something}

{JackieBoy: sure what’s up}

{Harteful: I found my Betsey.}

Jack dropped his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also did i say there wasn't going to be cheating because this really makes it seem like there's going to be cheating and that was NOT my intention. fuck.
> 
> in other news, ITS BEEN A MONTH, HOW ARE YOU ALL?


	9. My heart can't tell you no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandage chapter to fix all the bad shit that happened in the last one
> 
> Start of poly elams relationship

Jack let Alexander into his house at the first knock on the door, grinning as he tugged his boyfriend to his chest, running his hands through his hair. Alexander burned in barely concealed shame and regret for his actions. Jack, John, they loved him. He loved them, too.

Alex shook it from his head, hugging his boyfriend back.

“So,” Jack said, pulling back, raising a brow, “ Who is it?”

“You won’t believe this, but it’s Elizabeth Sawyer.”

“Wait, you went to the Grange with your old wife, and you didn’t even know?”

Alexander shook his head before reiterating himself.

“No, I knew it was her. She called me and we found out when I, well, Alexander, accidentally called her Betsey?”

Jack listened, intrigued as he walked to his room, turning the corner and entering his bedroom, allowing Alex in before shutting the door behind him and flopping on his bed, pulling his laptop to his chest.

“Shit, dude. I can’t imagine what that’s like. Did you know I had a wife, too? And a kid? Shit’s crazy.”

“Martha Manning?”

“Yeah, her.”

Alex flopped next to his boyfriend in silence, curling into his side, just thinking as Laurens scrolled through his internet history to find what he was looking for. Alexander raised a brow when Eliza Schuyler and the link to her wiki appeared multiple times, but then again, Langton had always been a curious guy. He sat up as guilt gnawed at him.

Jack blinked his deep green eyes at his boyfriend, raising a brow, grin plastered on his freckled face.

“What’s up?”

“You’re happy, like, unusually so?”

“Oh, heh, I kinda had a thing going with Laf that it was the Sawyer family that were related to the Schuylers?”

“You’ve been happy since before then. What’s up?”

Jack’s grin faltered and he looked momentarily hurt before swallowing and brushing a hand through his hair, tying it up carefully before continuing.

“You, uh, well, you’ve found your wife. I guess i’m just happy you chose me?”

To be honest, Jack had been heartbroken when he first heard about Eliza showing up. He had always had a thing for Alex. He just...He also had a thing for Elizabeth? Who wouldn’t, she was gorgeous, and sweet, and Jack had grown up watching her blossom and bloom, just like Alex. And he also liked Margarita, if you squinted. But those were crushes. He wasn’t...Well, maybe he was bisexual? No, he liked all sorts of people, so maybe bi wasn’t doing it justice? Was he pansexual? 

Alex watched Jack continue to scroll, seemingly lost in thought, mouse cursor lingering on multiple links to the pages of The Reynolds Pamphlet, feeling his gut churn.

He couldn’t do this.

“Jack.”

The freckled teen turned, raising a brow, tilting his head, eyes so full of love Alexander felt sick.

“ I...I-”

Jack’s gentle expression began to falter and Alexander felt like shit.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“I remember Eliza. I remember everything about her,” he blurted, and Jack blinked a couple of times.

“Yes, and?”

“I feel an overwhelming sense of affection when I’m near her…”

Jack paused his scrolling, finger lingering on the trackpad as he listened.

“Alexander…”

“That’s why I didn’t text. I was talking with Betsey. We were sharing memories. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Alexander.”

“And it got too intense and i tickled her and I felt such an overwhelming sense of affection, I almost-”

“Alexander, stop!”

Alex stopped talking, blinking.

Jack looked hurt, green eyes glistening with betrayal, trying to understand.

“Did you kiss her?”

“No.”

The brunette let out a breath of relief, suspicion still in his gaze.

“Then why are you so upset? I know you, Alex. There’s something else there. Something bothering you.”

Alex shrugged, feeling his conscious lift from his shoulders as if his metaphorical shame had been lifted.

“Are you sure nothing happened?”

“I’m not the harlot my reincarnate was.”

Jack barked a laugh, hugging his boyfriend to him and kissing his cheek.

“Dear boy, he was anything but a harlot.” 

“He was a twinky harlot, but for dudes.”

Jack laughed, reaching his letter links and clicking them.

“Believe me, read this shit and you’ll find out Laurens was just as bad.”

“Oooo, kinky~”

Jack blushed, running a hand through his hair.

“Shut up and read.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jack watched his boyfriend read, but his mind was in another place. He needed to talk to Eliza.

\---

Elizabeth ran into her house, rubbing at her eyes and sniffling, hair a windblown mess from running as she closed the door and peered around, biting her lip. No one appeared to be around. She slid down the door and burst into tears.

Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it, peering at it through her tears, it was an unknown number, but she could guess who it was.

{Unknown Number: hey elizabeth it’s jack um everything okay with you and alex?}

{Unknown Number: he’s new to this reincarnate shit}

{Unknown Number: oh yeah we know you’re a reincarnate too}

{Unknown Number: don’t worry i won’t tell anyone you don’t want me to}

She rubbed her eyes and sniffed again, adding the contact and replying.

{Eli: define okay}

{Jack Langton: like are you okay with your husband being with me}

Eliza blinked. Okay, damn, Jack was open as hell.

{Eli: you had him first}

{Jack Langton: ...damn you’re nice}

{Eli: haha i’m anything but}

The girl picked herself up from the floor, shifting and stretching, pocketing her phone as she went to her room and flopped down on her bed, pulling the device back out.

{Jack Langton: I know how it feels to not have alex}

{Jack Langton: believe me i know that shit hurts}

{Eli: you have him now why are you bothering me about this}

{Jack Langton: Alex told me what happened}

Eliza blinked, raising a brow at her phone.

{Eli: oh?}

{Jack Langton: listen i..fuck okay this is really weird to say but i think i know a way we can both be happy}

{Eli: …}

{Eli: i’m listening}

Jack blinked down at his phone and looked over where Alexander was scrolling through countless letters, looking intrigued, and saddened.

{Jack Langton: he loves you}

{Jack Langton: he loves me}

{Jack Langton: and we love him}

{Jack Langton: what if we both dated him?}

Eliza blinked, thinking it over quietly.

{Eli: and you’re okay with this?}

{Jack Langton: i trust you not to hurt my boy}

Eliza bit her lip, typing up a quick reply.

{Eli: what does alex think of this?}

{Jack Langton: I haven’t asked him yet, i wanted to know if you’d be interested first.}

She giggled, smiling softly, rubbing her tired, red rimmed eyes.

{Eli: ask him}

{Jack Langton: you’re on board?}

{Eli: i’m on board}

Jack grinned down at his phone and set it down, plugging it in to charge before plopping down next to his boyfriend and nuzzling him softly.

“Hey, you.”

Alex blinked, looking over at Jack, who was grinning like the chesire cat.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“So, I know you like ‘Liza.”

Alex shrunk, preparing for the worst.

“Hey, hey, baby boy, shhhhh- I’m not here to reprimand you.”

“How can you be so calm...?” Alexander asked, hiding behind his fingers.

“..I know how it hurts, Alexander,” Jack answered simply, removing his boyfriend’s hands from his face, opening him back up to the world, “ I never want that for anyone again.”

“But how can you possibly fix that?”

“I’ve been talking to Eliza.”

“Betsey?”

“Yes, Betsey. We’ve been talking, and, well, um...”

Harte was intrigued by his confident boyfriend suddenly trailing off.

“Well,” Alex goaded.

“Would you be okay with an, um, a trio kinda thing? Eliza and I can both date you, and you can date both of us? I don’t know the technical term, or if there even is one? This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

Alexander lit up like a Christmas tree and John blinked.

“Polyamory?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yeah, c’mere, let’s look up the definition. I’m pretty sure that’s it, but I could be wrong.”

Alex scooted to the side, typing the word into the search engine and waiting.

“ The philosophy or state of being in love or romantically involved with more than one person at the same time,” Alexander chirped happily.

Jack looked relieved.

“Thought I was gonna make a fool out of myself with that.”

Alex laughed.

“You’d never be a fool to me.”

“Just the other day you made fun of me for forgetting the word ball.”

“How do you forget the word ball, though? Especially considering you have two.”

“The object! Not the dingle danglies!”

Alexander burst into laughter and Jack eventually joined him.

“The dingle danglies oh my fucking gOD!”

The freckled teen shoved him away, laughing.

“You fucking dork,” Alexander giggled.

Jack tugged him closer, petting his hair lovingly.

“So?”

“I think that sounds nice. But, remember, you have to share ~”

Jack tightened his hold, smiling slightly.

“Of course.”

The taller boy grabbed his phone and shot Eliza one last text before delving into reading letters with his boyfriend, having them read it out loud in the most ridiculous voices, especially any saucy parts. Alexander claimed elmo’s voice, so Jack took Mickey. They couldn’t even get through one.

{JackieBoy: He said yes. Guess we’re all together now?}

Eliza stared at her phone with a tiny smile, feeling relieved. The guilt from before faded away as she faded to a gentle sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had john initiate the poly relationship because i imagine that boy knows the pain and doesn't want Eliza to suffer in silence. He's a kind boy.
> 
> Start of Jefferson's memory arch in next chapter, so keep an eye out for that~!
> 
> Also, friendly reminder that I am a human being with feelings, so next time you make a comment, please keep in mind that I will see it, and that I am not a robot who pumps out endless chapters. Please also keep in mind that I make mistakes, and am not an almighty, all knowing creature; I am just a teenager trying to write to make myself happy. If I get something wrong, tell me.


	10. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Jackson gets a revelation.

Thomas Jackson considered himself normal. He had friends, tons of them, he was from a rich upbringing, and had daddy’s money to fall back on for when he would finally graduate. A few more years. A few more years and he’d be out of this fucking hell hole that was high school. He had girlfriends, multiple at one point before they found out and bitched him out Freshman year. He was okay with that, it didn’t mar his reputation, which was pretty frickin’ flawless. He had anything he wanted, when he wanted it. What more could he ask for?

He wasn’t nice. He was anything but, especially to Harte and his posse. He had felt a sickening pull in the shortie’s direction when he had first met him in middle school. After bouncing around for a while in France, coming back to America made him feel grossly superior.

He had a complex that Harte wanted to knock out of him the moment their eyes met.

But something was haunting him..What did Harte mean when he called him Jefferson? He had heard Jack Langton be called Laurens before, and Baar was called Burr at lunch… Was it something stupid they did? And if so, why would Harte include him? It made his head reel.

Splaying his hands out on his bed, Thomas lifted his head, grabbing his phone and scrolling through social media, the sun hiding behind his blinds, playing peek-a-boo with them, shining in thin stripes across his bedroom floor.

He scrolled aimlessly, fingers making the world zoom by on a tiny screen, ignoring text messages in favor of rotting his brain for a few hours. When he finally did check his messages, he grimaced and deleted them all, not wanting to deal with people right now.

Thomas Jefferson...Old white dude who owned slaves. Thomas Jackson, African American who had slaves in his family history that had fought for freedom. Yup, Jackson was definitely sure Harte was using it as an insult, but that was such a backhanded way of doing it, even Jackson felt appalled. How else would the filthy little immigrant mean his comment, and did he even have room to do so, given his own upbringing?

Jackson curled his lip in distaste and sat up, hair a wreck from sleeping on it. He leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing his laptop and opening it. He needed to do a search.

Typing the name into his search history made Jackson feel a sense of shame he didn’t formerly know, as if he was being burned with every word he uncovered, every truth he unfurled. He got to information about Sally Hemings before he felt physically sick, shoving the computer away as he ran to his bathroom, barely getting to the toilet before unleashing his stomach’s contents into it. He remained there, limp and sickened as thoughts and feelings bombarded him.

Jackson squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears brim in them as he hacked uselessly, squirming and trying to escape the memories coming to assault him.

[ Screams echoed the room from a beautiful girl and a slap resounded, shutting her up, but not muffling her terrified sobs. 

Sally Hemings.

He was seeing through the eyes of her abuser, and he couldn’t stand it.]

He refused to believe it. HE REFUSED.

She deserved better.

[ “Our country is now taking so steady a course as to show by what road it will pass to destruction; by consolidation of power first of power first, and then corruption, its necessary consequence,” Thomas watched the man write to his friend, quill scritch scratching on the parchment, fine and crisp, unmarred aside from the occasional pinky sliding across his words when he reviewed his words. He looked so pleased with himself.]

Jackson heaved again, tears falling down his face. What the hell even was this? Why was he seeing this?

It wasn’t all bad, however, and that made Jackson even sicker to his stomach. 

This monster wasn’t a fairytale villain, he was a real person, and a vile one with brilliant ideas at that. 

[He watched images of Thomas Jefferson talk with his wife. He watched him mourn with her at the loss of their children. He watched the man write up gorgeous quotes, ones he knew by heart, about friendship, about life, and how lucky everyone was to live in this moment. He watched him talk with people, although he was quiet. He watched him perform the quietest speech known to man.

He listened to him have panic attacks, laughed with him at jokes he muttered to himself at meetings, and sympathized when he lost his wife.]

This man wasn’t just a demon you could dehumanize like fiction, he had been real.

And that made it worse.

Fumbling to pick himself up once the assault had ceased, Thomas ran his hands down his face, which was deathly pale, despite his dark complexion. He rinsed his mouth out after brushing his teeth and flushed the remains of his stomach down the drain, turning off the tap and going back into his dark room, thankful for the lack of light as he crawled back to his bed, grabbing his phone and doing the most plausible thing he knew at this time. He called James.

\---

James was awake, working on a paper that was due on Monday, when his phone rang, shrill and annoying, through his bedroom. He ignored it for a few minutes, praying silently that it would go away. He didn’t want to deal with this, not when he had a paper to write, and a play to read.

The shrill bringing sound rang through the air again and the male let out an annoyed huff before grabbing the phone and bringing it to his ear after accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“J-Jem?” a quiet voice called through the receiver, barely heard above the white noise of James' fan, which he turned off to hear his friend better.

Thomas sounded scared, and immediately James was on high alert, shutting his book and grabbing his shoes, pencil and paper discarded carelessly.

“Thomas?” he questioned in a quiet breath, as though he was afraid the tension would snap and physically recoil and hit him if he spoke any louder.

“J-Jem, can you..Can you come over?”

“Yeah, um, yeah, I can. I’ll be there soon. Stay...Stay safe.”

Hanging up, James pocketed his phone and put on his shoes, debating whether or not to bring his bookbag, seeing as every time he went to his lavish friend’s house, he hardly returned before nightfall, and he really needed to get this report done. He decided to empty out his bag and grab a blanket, placing his paper, book, and play on top of the blanket, shoving it in his backpack gingerly and leaving, carefully making his way down the stairs and hurriedly walking and hailing a cab.

He arrived about half an hour later and paid the cabbie, walking down the long and winding sidewalk to his friend’s house, pushing in the code he had known for years and walking through the gates, making sure they shut behind him before continuing. Eventually, he reached the door and knocked, surprised to see Thomas himself answer it.

He looked like hell.

James yelped as he was tugged into a hug, pressed possessively against the taller boy’s chest. He struggled in the hold before eventually giving up and just standing there, letting Thomas attempt to squish him to death.

After the long, drawn out hug, Thomas and James separated and the taller male sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. James didn’t mention the paleness of his friend’s complexion. He’d talk about it when he was ready. Or not. It really was up to him, and James knew that. Thomas had secrets he’d never spill.

Fine by him.

“You want anything to drink?”

“I’m okay.”

“Hungry at all?”

James was growing tired of all this pussy-footing.

“Thomas, why’d you call me over?”

Brown eyes clouded in pain and James immediately felt guilty, but for what he didn’t know.

“...Come with me.”

James followed Thomas up the stairs, to his bedroom, which was pitch except for the blinds letting thin stripes of the outside world shine in, illuminating the floor.

His eyes had to adjust to the darkness, but they eventually did and Thomas helped lead him to the bed, to which James raised an accusatory eyebrow. He kept this face until his friend pulled out his laptop and opened it to a wiki page of Thomas Jefferson? Confusion clouded his own face, curiosity piqued.

“Are you confused on a history project?”

“Well, you always knew a lot about the Bill of Rights for some reason, and I, um, well I knew a lot about the Constitution, and always had weird phrases pop up in conversation, right?”

“...Yes?”

“I think...Shit, this sounds fucking ridiculous, what the hell am I doing,” Thomas muttered under his breath.

“Thomas, what’s going on?”

“I think...Um..” 

Thomas flipped the tab to one on reincarnation and realization dawn on his friend’s face.

“But, how?”

“I have no idea, Jem. God, you probably think i’m insane.”

James set his bag down, propping himself further on the bed, scooting closer and taking the laptop from Thomas, scrolling through the page, biting his lip. He went to a new tab and typed in if there was any known cases of reincarnation. 

Thomas looked relieved that his friend didn’t shut him out or call him crazy. He merely watched James type, and type, and type, scrolling until he found what he was looking for. He had always been analytical to a fault, but it proved effective.

Multiple google searches and sixty pages later, the shorter man found what he had been searching for. One known case of reincarnation and multiple speculations, although they were from the holocaust, or from Europe. It had been strange to find any from America that dwelled completely in America, but he didn’t stop looking.

Thomas left to get them something to drink while James typed and searched.

Curiosity got the better of him and he looked around before searching up the American revolution and the founding fathers, trying to see if he could find anything further on Thomas Jefferson. 

He found a lot, although not all of it good. He was a US President, had expeditions in his name, blah, blah, blah bla- Slaves. He owned slaves. Well, didn’t every President for the longest time?...That didn’t make it right. That, in fact, made it worse.

While he was stuck on the page, Thomas came back, holding two glasses, setting them on the bedside table and plopping back into place.

James tried to change the tab, but Jackson had already seen it.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, it isn’t your fault.”

“..I know, but that’s horrible...I didn’t mean to subject you to anything like this.”

“Heh, it’s fine- I already got sick over it.”

“Got sick-?! Thomas, why didn’t you tell me? Have you eaten since then?”

Jackson clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Mama bird Millston, back at it again.”

James scowled, glaring until the taller teen relented his teasing.

“Okay, okay, fine, shit, don’t look at me like that!”

James smiled.

“Okay, you can look at me like that, though.”

“Go eat, Thomas.”

“But I’m not hungry. This entire morning has fucked my eating habits into submission.”

Millston rolled his eyes.

“Classy.”

Thomas bowed mockingly and James chuckled.

A comfortable silence settled over them, aside from James clicking on links.

“Do you think you’re a reincarnate, too?” Thomas finally asked.

“Doubt it,” James said simply.

“Do you think Harte is a reincarnate?”

“I don’t rightfully know,” James said thoughtfully. 

Oh, that’s right, he wasn’t there the day Harte called Jackson Jefferson, Thomas recalled bitterly. He’d have to smack the Caribbean male on Monday, to get him back for making him feel all these terrible things.

"Don't you find it odd you can recall the Bill of Rights so clearly?"

"Thomas, I'm not doing this."

"..Fine."


	11. A Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas deals with his new information, Eliza is invited to join the revolutionary set, and somebody important makes an entrance.

After the conversation with Jack, Alex had snuck back home after spending the weekend, slipping into his house, toeing off his shoes and hurrying up the stairs, hoping to avoid his parents. He managed a few steps before the lights flipped on and he froze like a statue, phone slipping from his back pocket and back down the steps.

“Hon?”

“Heh, hey mom.”

“We got a call on Friday. You weren’t in school?”

“Oh, um, yeah, sorry, I was at the nurse’s office for a headache that made it freaking impossible to focus. They counted me absent because they’re stupid like that.”

Lucy smiled warmly, nodding understandingly.

“Maybe check into your classes and let them know ahead of time next time it happens, alright dear?”

“Can do, Mom.”

“You were at John’s this weekend, right?”

“Jack, mom, and yeah.”

“Oh, jeez, I called him John again, didn’t I? I’m so used to reincarnates having the same name they had in their last life.”

Alex raised a brow.

“Uh-huh..Are there any others I should know about, mom?”

Lucy blinked, puzzled.

“No, not that I know of.”

“Alrighty. Anyway, I’ma shower and probably read until bed, so if you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

Alex nudged his way past his foster mother and continued up the stairs.

She merely stared after him and went to retrieve the clattering object that had fallen from her son’s jeans, peering down at the phone she held in her hands.  
A message was displayed on the screen from Hercules. She smiled and went to go give it back, but thought better of it, seeing as he son was showering. Instead, she handed it to her husband.

Henry raised a brow at the phone in his hand, flicking his eyes back to his wife.

“Why do you have Alexander’s phone?”

“He dropped it. Can you please give it back to him after his shower?”

“Sure.”

\---

Alex showered and changed into clean clothes, toweling his damp hair as he looked around for his phone. Surely, he hadn’t left it at Jack’s place? No, he had it with him when he had packed his backpack. Ah, shit, speaking of backpack.

Harte reached into his bag and pulled out a bunch of papers he really should’ve been focusing on during his weekend, sighing heavily. He could feel the ghost of his past scoffing at him, and he grimaced, grabbing a pencil and opening the book that went along with the papers, looking for the specific section he needed.

“I never let things get this bad before. Ugh, fuck this Alexander Hamilton dude and his horrible life.”

It seemed ironic to Harte that he thought so little of this guy, but the teenager brushed it off and focused on trying to cram his brain with information.

“I was an A plus fucking student, what the hell?”

There was a knock on his door and Harte groaned.

“Yo?”

The knob turned and Henry walked in, holding Alex’s phone.

“I found this on the stairs?”

“Oh, that’s where that went!”

He grabbed the device and placed it on the desk before going back to attempting to look like he was busy doing homework. Henry raised a brow and squatted by his son.

“You need some help, kiddo?”

“Eugh.”

“That’s very articulate.”

“I’m just a little miffed that all this memory whiplash has rendered my brain into mush. Seriously, I already have a lifetime of my own, why is this happening to me now? Better yet, why couldn’t it happen when I was actually learning about the founding fathers? Do you know how awesome that would’ve been for middle school me? But noooooo, I just had to get it during fucking world history, and geography? It’s useless.”

Henry blinked before bursting into a long fit of laughter.

Alex blushed deeply.

“Shut up, let me be pouty.”

Henry peered at the papers in front of his foster son quizzically.

“What are you working on?”

Alex sighed, sinking further into his chair, spine bending uncomfortably. 

“Algebra.” 

“Yikes-”

“Mom’s the math major, just go get her.”

Henry let out a disgruntled sound at the accusation that he wasn’t good at math. I mean, it was true, but still.

“Fine.”

Henry turned and left, leaving the brunet alone with his phone.

Running a hand through his hair, Alex flipped through his messages, smiling at the cute jokes Eliza would send him, or the kissy emotes John sent him. He already missed them both. Okay, maybe having Alexander’s memories wasn’t THAT bad after all.

Lucy came to the room and entered, shaking her head and taking a seat.

They spent the rest of that night just doing homework that needed to be done.

\---

John sighed heavily as he shut his laptop, fumbling with his jeans as he shucked them off and bounced to the center of his bed after turning off the light to his bedroom. He sighed contently, blinking as his phone buzzed in his hand. Turning it on and entering his passcode, the freckled teen flipped through to his newest messages. Eliza had been talking with Alex since they had all officially gotten together, so the trio had a group chat, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. He had an unknown number contacting him.

[Unknown Number: Laurens.]

{JackieBoy: Wrong number, bub. There’s no Laurens here.}

[Unknown Number: Jack Langton, also known as John Laurens, friend of Hercules Mulligan, and Lafayette.]

[Unknown Number: i have news]

{JackieBoy: fuck your news and fuck you, boy}

[Unknown Number: haha wow you’re easy to rile up. Even easier than Alexander.]

{JackieBoy: you touch him and i’ll end you}

[Unknown Number: Strong words, someone outta hold you to it]

{JackieBoy: wait a fucking second}

{JackieBoy: Lee?}

{JackieBoy: oh you’ve got to be kidding me, how the HELL did you reincarnate?}

[Unknown Number: i’m special like that]

{JackieBoy: yeah, really fucking special}

{JackieBoy: I should rearrange your face}

{JackieBoy: again}

[Unknown Number: stop being a brat, i’m trying to type]

{JackieBoy: haha even in this lifetime you can’t get a word in}

[Unknown Number: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!]

{JackieBoy: you’ve got a minute before i turn off my phone and block your number}

[Unknown Number: George and Samuel can sense another reincarnate in New York.]

{JackieBoy: that’s real specific}

{JackieBoy: bet it’s James.}

{JackieBoy: wait wtf samuel and george are here too is this school a fucking reincarnate powerhouse???}

[Unknown Number: That’s for me to know and you to wonder about. He’s not gonna say a word to you]

{JackieBoy: who hurt you}

[Unknown Number has blocked you. You can no longer receive messages from this user.]

Jack stared at his phone, reading the messages over again, head reeling. He plugged his phone in and rolled back over, but he didn’t sleep, at least not soundly. He was gonna punch Charlie Lee Lesley in the face next time he saw him.

\---

It seemed Thomas had similar ideas, but for Harte. The school bell rang and he was immediately on a mission to get to class and sit as far from everyone as possible, lest he smack the shit out of the male in question. James considered this strange, but sat down a little away from him to give him space.

Aaron took a seat a little ways to the left of where he usually sat. No one questioned it, merely nodding at him and his busted face.

Harte slid into class at the last second, shoving Jack to get to his seat, laughing.

Mr. Wade rolled his eyes.

“Harte, Langton, stop roughhousing in the classroom.”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered obediently, taking their seats.

Mr. Wade laughed a bit at their display, turning back to the board and writing down the main points they’d be learning today.

Alex hid his hands in his sweatshirt and texted Jack instead of talking.

Jack raised a brow and snickered, writing down a note and shoving down his boyfriend’s sweatshirt, eliciting a loud yelp that made the class burst into laughter. Wade froze where he was, sighing and setting his marker down, but not turning around.

“Mr. Harte, Mr. Langton, do you want to stay after class?”

Alex whacked his boyfriend on the arm.

“ No, sir,” he bit out as Jack merely moved his arm out of the way, leaning far back in his seat.

Harte glared and went back to staring down at his desk.

James watched this display boredly, rolling his eyes when he heard Thomas scoff.

Maybe this is why he’d never have kids?

Probably.

Mr. Wade turned around to face the class, holding pamphlets.

“Today we’re learning about France. Can anyone tell me anything important about France?”

The class remained silent, although James side-eyed Jackson. Come on, the dude had literally lived there for a portion of his life, not that anyone else knew that, but still.

“Any historical marks? Surely, there must be something of relevance to you,” Mr. Wade goaded.

Alexander, finding no one else doing it, finally raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Harte?”

“France is a continent which holds the Eiffel Tower, and a museum that holds some of the most famous works of art in Europe, if not the world.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harte. Now, do you know what they gifted to America?”

“A war,” Charlie said under his breath.

Langton turned and glared, balling his fist.

“Watch your mouth,” Jack hissed.

Lee smiled.

Mr. Wade raised a brow at the display.

“Mr. Lesley, Mr. Langton, is everything alright?”

Langton turned, grinning.

“No problem at all, sir. We were just discussing what France gifted over to America.”

“And?”

“Well, Charlie boy here, he’s such a scamp-”

Alexander coughed. “Tramp.”

Langton held back a laugh and continued.

“He said they gifted us a war.”

Mr. Wade raised a brow.

“I was moreso thinking a monument, son.”

“Why are we even learning this,” piped up a small voice.

Everyone turned to face James and he blinked, looking around at all the eyes on him.

“What did I do?”

“You don’t usually speak during class,” Alex said bluntly.

Jackson glared, making to get up, but a gentle hand found his arm. He looked up, blinking at a girl he hardly knew.

“Shhh, just let them wear themselves out.”

He shrugged his arm from her grip, but made no moves to defend his friend either.

The girl settled back down and went back to focusing on Mr. Wade. Thomas watched her out of the corner of his eye.

His attention was drawn back to the lesson gradually.

Soon enough, the bell rang and they all left, heading for their next class. As luck would have it, Alex and Langton separated and left the tiny man alone to wander the halls. Thomas knew for sure his next class was across the school and down a stairwell. Good.

Speeding up, Jackson managed to corner Alex and box him in.

The other high schooler growled, actually growled, at being caged like an animal.

Thomas wasn’t here to play games.

“How did you know?”

“Know what, Jackson?”

“Don’t-! Don’t call me that.”

“I’m not calling you Thomas.”

Jackson glared.

“Do I have to spell it out to you?”

“Considering I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about? Yes, you do, you dumb fuck.”

Thomas let out an annoyed sound, picking up Hamilton by his shirt and slamming him into the stairwell, listening as his head snapped back against the bar.

“You knew who I was before I did. How the hell did you know?!” he hissed into the other’s ear.

No one was around to witness this display. High school could be brutal, and hall monitors got their ass beat in the bathrooms, so it made for some interesting times. You could either make out away from the teachers, or beat someone unsuspecting up.

Harte blinked a couple of times before it started dawning on him what Jackson could possibly mean.

“..Jefferson,” he breathed in disbelief.

“Bingo.”

Alex glared, clawing at the boy’s arms, digging his blunt nails into the skin.

“It doesn’t matter how I knew, just let me go!”

Jackson tightened his grip, knuckles whitening.

“Are there more like me?”

“I don’t know!”

“Liar!”

Alex kicked his legs, trying to wriggle free, feeling the cool metal of the stairwell against his back and neck. Thomas lifted him higher.

“Fine! Fine!”

Jackson blinked.

“It’s me. I’m the other one, and there’s one more, but you have to find him by yourself!”

Thomas, getting his answer, tossed the other teen down onto the ground.

“You’re gonna be late.”

With that, he turned and left.

Alex watched his shoes retreat, glaring and picking himself up, trying to fix his shirt which seemed permanently wrinkled. True to his word, the bell rang, and Alex still had to get down the stairs and to his class. Dammit, they’d most likely lock him out.

\---

Lunch came and Alex slammed his head down on the table. He had been late, locked out of class, and had gotten in trouble by wandering teachers for sitting outside said classroom like a troublemaker.

Hercules raised a brow.

“Dude, you okay?”

“No, i’m not. Just let me die.”

Jack rolled his eyes, running a hand over his boyfriend’s back, rubbing it in soothing circles. Harte leaned into his touch, humming in appreciation.

"What happened, my dude?"

"Fuckwad bullies happened."

Jack's hand paused.

"They're picking on you again?"

"They're always picking on me. It was just a different group this time."

"Which group?"

There was a gentle cough and all eyes came to Elizabeth Sawyer, who was standing awkward at their table. Alex lifted his head before brightening up and patting the area next to him excitedly.

“Betsey!”

Eliza smiled warmly, sitting beside Alex.

Gilbert raised a brow.

“Ms. Sawyer?”

Eliza regarded the French teen with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

“Hello, Gilbert.”

Hercules leaned on the table, raising a brow.

“Hold up. Betsey is what Alex called his wife..? Woah, wait, wait, waIT-!”

Jack laughed, slapping a hand over his friend’s back.

“Herc, breathe!”

Hercules looked like an excited puppy at the news.

“Is this the esteemed ‘Liza Schuyler-Hamilton?”

Gilbert looked intrigued, watching the girl for the answer carefully.

Elizabeth bowed politely.

“I am she.”

Hercules whooped.

Lafayette shoved a bun into his mouth.

“You’re gonna draw attention, mon ami.”

The bigger teen merely bit the bun, chewing it in thought.

Alexander rolled his eyes.

“You guys are ridiculous.” He took a sip of his milk before talking again. “ Okay, so you know Jackson?”

“Jackson, like Thomas Jackson, or that one senior who is very firm in his beliefs?” Jack asked.

“Thomas Jackson,” Alex clarified.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Have you got filth on him?”

“It’s dirt, Gil.”

Gilbert shrugged.

“Baaaaaaaabe, tell us,” Langton whined.

Alex pinched his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Okay, so you’re not gonna believe this, but that fucker cornered me on the way to second period, and he asks me, ‘How did you know?’ Like i’m supposed to know what that means?”

Laf tilted his head, raising a brow.

“What did you know?”

“I’m getting to that. Anywho, he’s ballistic, picks me up, slams me into the stairs, and i’m here just trying to think about what I did to evoke this rage, and it hits me.”

“What?” Eliza asked, very invested in the story.

Alex lowered his voice and looked around before continuing.

“He’s Jeffershit. That fuckwad found me centuries later, and was STILL pissed.”

Hercules belted out a laugh.

“How’d he react to you confirming it?”

“He asked if there were others like him.”

The table got very quiet.

“...What’d you tell him?” Jack asked, breaking the silence.

“I, uh, well, I told him that I was one and that there was only one more, and he let me go.”

“Awww, man, you should’ve said Lee.”

Both Gilbert and Hercules looked at Langton at the mention of Charles Lee.

“Lee is here?”

“Oh, whoops. Shit, I forgot to tell you guys that.”

Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, flipping to his and Charles’ conversation, passing his phone around.

Alex scowled, and so did the boys. Eliza merely frowned.

“He sounds nasty.”

“He’s a slanderer and a traitor in his past life.”

“John Laurens dueled him,” Jack informed proudly.

“Only because our dearest Alexandre wasn’t allowed to,” Laf reminded gently.

“Hamilton would probably have shot him in the mouth,” Harte joked.

“Are we just gonna ignore the fact that George and Samuel are here, too?” Herc reasoned.

“And how does Lee have such strong bonds with everyone?” Alex questioned.

“Ugh, I don’t even wanna know,” Jack said, eating a fishstick. 

He got a look in his eyes and everyone knew it meant bad news. Pouring milk onto a singular fishstick, he reached over Alex and pointed it at Eliza, who looked shocked.

“Hey, wanna try this?”

“No, she will not eat a fishstick covered in chocolate milk, you dick. Stop picking on my wife,” Alex grumped while Jack howled in laughter.

The rest of lunch was spent with playful banter, the seriousness fading, replaced with teasing and initiating Eliza to the group in increasingly ridiculous ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no one to bounce ideas off of, so it got a bit rambly. I rewrote this about five times, and chopped it down quite a bit, so be prepared for the next few chapters bc those are where all the chopped storylines and ideas went


	12. Not mine to command anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George-centric chapter

Having a class full of students who didn’t respect you was something George had grown used to, although he wasn’t supposed to be used to something like that. Then again, it wasn’t the Seventeenth Century anymore, and he was no more a general than his kids were soldiers. Although, they were wholly incompetent like his past combatants. Then again, what could you ask of children?

Every day, aside from his sick days, and the weekend, George would show up and prepare to teach, and every day there was the kids, like clockwork, acting up. He should’ve known when his class began shuffling in after what seemed to be an intense weekend, something was up. He should’ve known something went wrong when Baar and Harte separated. Should’ve known when Baar showed up with a busted face and Harte a busted knuckle. He should’ve known these were his soldiers. 

Alex challenged him, but George, now that he knew who he was, wasn’t going to deal with this.

When Tuesday came, and Harte shuffled into class as one of the first kids in the room, taking his seat quietly, Mr. Wade didn’t pry, but if the kid started acting up, he’d let up his rouse and take things more seriously. It hurt to be the teacher people stepped on, but it kept him safe.

Langton hurried into the room, pushing past James, Thomas, and Aaron, flopping down in his chair behind his boyfriend, where they began talking animatedly, although George could only catch snippets of the conversation.

“I’m just saying, Alex, if you would-”

“No, you know-”

“Washington-”

“I wasn’t his kid-”

“Not the General-”

George couldn’t make out more after that and went back to writing down the topics of the day. The custodial staff always erased his hard work, but he wasn’t angry. They did their best.

“Eugh, seriously, you think that’s him?”

George blinked, confused. That was Jackson’s voice, whispering hurriedly and hushed to James Millston.

“Who else would he be?”

“That’s not him.”

“You never know.”

Before George could try to figure out their conversation, the bell rang, causing him to jump, which his students noticed.

Charlie Lesley chuckled and Jack socked him in the shoulder, making him whine and curse.

Mr. Wade turned to face the class after finishing writing.

“Roll call?”

The class whined.

“Do you want to be counted absent?”

“No,” they chimed in usion.

“Then let me do my job.” He turned to a paper on his desk, grabbing a pen, checking people off as he called their name. He stopped and looked up at his next culprit before he said anything. They had this fight daily, but it usually ended with a warning.

“Harte.”

“Here.”

“Jackson.”

“Present.”

“Stop being pretentious, you douche,” Harte called out.

And so it began.

“Stop making me feel bad for saying present every time!”

“Stop being so haughty, all I did was say the truth!”

George narrowed his eyes.

“Alexander, meet me after class.”

“Bu-”

“No buts, son.”

“I’m not your son,” Alexander bit out angrily, crossing his arms. George merely smiled.

Thomas laughed.

“Do you want to join him, Mr. Jackson?”

Thomas shut up.

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

Mr. Wade went back to calling out names.

“Langton?”

“Here.”

“Lesley?”

“Here.”

George checked their boxes and called out the rest of the students before tucking it into a folder.

“Anyone wanna run this to the office?”

A hush fell over the class and George rolled his eyes.

“All you have to do is put it in a box. I’m not sending you there for bad behavior. Honestly, you all act like I’m gonna send you off to war,” he joked.

Alex blinked and exchanged a look with Jack, who shrugged.

George shuffled awkwardly and Lesley raised his hand.

“I’ll bring it there.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“Anything for you, sir.”

Harte gagged and Lee shoved him while getting up, walking to the front desk and grabbing the folder before leaving the classroom, grabbing the hallpass and sneaking off. They wouldn’t see him the rest of class.

Mr. Wade got the class working on an assignment, wandering the class and helping people who needed it, raising a brow at people passing notes, but otherwise leaving them be. He wasn’t gonna call them out on it. 

Harte was scowling down at his paper as he wrote, Jack ignoring him in favor of his own assignment, turning pages in his book casually. George wandered over, squatting down.

“You alright, son?”

“Not’cha son,” He mumbled.

“Sorry,” Mr. Wade apologized,” But do you need any help?”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

\---

The end of class came and George looked up from his desk as Alex shuffled closer, having packed up, looking upset.

“I’m not here to damn you, you know that, right, Mr. Harte?”

“You’ve never made me stay after before.”

“I suppose I wanted to make a statement.”

“A statement,” The younger man bit out emotionlessly.

“Yes. You’ve chosen this class to act up in, Alexander. Why is that?”

Alex shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

“Well, I, uh..”

The bell rang and Alex flinched.

George looked disappointingly at the clock and then apologetically at Alexander.

“I’ll write you a note. I’m sorry I made you late, son.”

“Stop calling me son!” Alexander exploded, enraged suddenly.

George drew back, shocked.

“Alexander-”

“Why do you even do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call your students son. I never hear you call the girls anything but their last name, but you call the boys son, and it’s so-” Familiar. “Weird.”

Mr. Wade looked hurt.

“I guess old habits die hard.”

“Old habits..die..hard?”

George sighed, motioning to Alexander to sit.

“I led a battle regiment before I taught,” George explained once his student was sat in place. “I was fighting for years, over twenty, before I stopped and retired from the military to teach.” 

“When did you even have time to get the needed credits?”

“I had gotten my credits during my time in the warzones, doing my studies in my free time. I also taught former combatants what they needed to do, and I called them son. It was a term of endearment, meant to help them. For my female combatants, calling them daughter wasn’t an endearment, and it made them feel weak, and I guess that also followed me through to now. I want to empower and make the students feel welcome, not berate them.”

Alexander sat in silence.

“I apologize, sir.”

George chuckled, grabbing a loose leaf piece of paper from his personal binder and beginning to write a note. Alexander cautiously laid a hand on his teacher’s and George looked up, confused.

“Do you mind if we..Um..Just talk? I’ve been needing help with some stuff...General.”

George’s hand paused and he tilted his head.

“General?”

Alexander froze, immediately feeling a rush of heat run over his body as shame overtook him, feeling his face burn bright.

“Yeah, you wo-would’ve been a general, right?”

Smooth, Alexander.

George fought a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, Alexander, I would’ve been. Here I’m just Mr. Wade, though.”

This conversation wasn’t progressing the way either of them needed it to. So Alex just came out and said it.

“Your name is George, right?”

It was Mr. Wade’s turn to freeze.

“Mr. Harte,” George began, “I’m just Mr. Wade to you. Not General, not George, just...Just Mr. Wade.” He was shutting down, bottling himself back up. Stay safe, stay safe, stay safe a voice whispered in his head. Do not let this child know who you are.

Harte frowned, withdrawing his hand. Everything was telling him this was his General, but this man was denying it vehemently. How was he supposed to get answers from this brick wall?

“Sir-”

George handed him a note.

“You should head to class, Mr. Harte, before you get in more trouble.”

“But, sir-”

“Figure it out, Alexander.”

Mr. Wade went back to grading papers. 

Alexander watched him for a few seconds before getting back up from his chair and leaving the classroom, shutting it carefully behind him, sighing heavily.

George waited until the shadow had disappeared before running a hand down his face.

“Get yourself together, George…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To go a little more into why George is afraid to tell anyone who he is; the man is old. The man has served in a war, lived a life, witnessed both his wives pass on and leave him alone. He doesn't need another whirlwind to come into his life, which is exactly what Alexander is, a whirlwind child who bears Hamilton's memories, which keep pointing him in the direction of who is going to be discovered next. Alexander Hamilton wanted George. Harte was just pulled along for the ride.


	13. Who knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to dive a little further into the group, seeing as I didn't formally introduce them to the polygroup, and seeing Alex get lovey-dovey with someone else would definitely arouse suspicion 
> 
> Gotta tie up my loose ends, y'know?
> 
> Also, yay Thomas and James research!! My boys are curious beans.

Aaron slipped out of the building after not finding Theodosia during lunch, causing people to raise a brow in suspicion, but no one seemed to care enough to do anything. It was free reign during lunch period. Plus, it wasn’t like he was going to run off and do drugs. He was Aaron Baar, notorious goody-two-shoes, and everyone knew that; but what had him so shaken? What was startling this man to the bone, shocking him, making him dizzy?

Even Aaron wished he could tell you.

Thomas leaned on his arms, raising a brow as he watched Baar flee the lunchroom, not even so much as glancing at the group he used to consider friends.

The teen in question walked out of the lunchroom and wandered the area, running his hands over the plants lining the sidewalk, looking around for his sunshine. He couldn’t find her, so he went to the parking lot, paying no heed to anyone in his path, seeing as he had a goal, and they just wanted to make out where the teachers wouldn’t find them. He supposed that could have been a goal. A stupid one, but still.

Aaron was not seen again all afternoon.

\---

“James?” Thomas asked, leaning into his hand, fingers tapping against his chin.

“Hmmn?”

“Aaron Baar,” The teenager drawled out, shifting to where he was sitting up straight, hands at his side, “Wasn’t he friends with Harte?”

“Before their big falling out, yes.”

Thomas blinked, tilting his head.

“Big falling out?”

“You don’t know about that?”

“Uh, obviously not,” Thomas huffed.

James rolled his eyes, going through his phone, scrolling around for what he had taken video of. Once he found what he was looking for, James handed the phone to Thomas.

“What the heck…”

Jackson watched the video. It was blurry, and it was hard to hear what was being said over the general lull of the cafeteria, but he saw Harte rear back and punch Aaron square in the face after a minute of heated yelling, seemingly enraged.

“My god.”

James took his phone back, locking it and tucking it into his pocket.

“They don’t hang around each other anymore.”

Thomas scoffed.

“Sounds pathetic.”

James blinked, looking off to the side.

“Sounds lonely.”

Thomas blinked, looking at his friend.

“You actually feel pity for him?”

“Yes.”

Jackson ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip.

“Why?”

James stared at him pointedly.

“Because I know what it’s like to be alone.”

Before Jackson could ask what he meant, James was getting up, grabbing his bag, and leaving the lunchroom, headed to the library.

Thomas grabbed his own stuff and ran after his friend.

“Wait, shit- JEM!”

The cafeteria watched Jackson run after Millston, confused, but not questioning it too much. The two ran past Elizabeth and her siblings.

Angelica raised a brow, pausing her walking.

Peggy stopped as well, stilling Eliza’s movements with a pull of her hand.

“What’s up?”

Angelica looked intrigued.

“They’re fighting.”

Peggy rolled her eyes.

“Mhmm.”

Eliza frowned.

“You’re not going to spy on them, are you?”

Angelica grinned and her siblings sighed.

Peggy rolled her eyes, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“You need to eat, Angelica.”

“No, I need to gather information.” 

The youngest sibling scoffed.

“Well, I am hungry, so I’m gonna go. If you wanna catch them, I suggest the library. James runs off there all the time,” Peggy remarked quietly, distracted.

Margarette slipped past her sister and into the cafeteria, heading outside to her group of friends, leaving Eliza standing with her arm outstretched, Angelica heading toward the direction the boys had run off in. 

Shaking her head, Eliza slipped into the cafeteria and went over to her boys, sitting down with them, sighing in relief when they accepted her into their little family with no qualms, giggling as Alexander nuzzled her lovingly while talking about the shitshow being held up after class was.

“I was so embarrassed! I thought I had found Washington, right? I even called him general.”

“General Washington,” Eliza asked, confused, setting her lunchbox down neatly next to her.

“Yes, General Washington. I thought Mr. Wade was Washington,” Alex specified, mortified.

“Ooooh shit,” John mused, biting his lip.

“All I did was piss him off something fierce, Alex murmured sadly, leaning against Eliza’s shoulder.

“That's why we hold off in saying anything, dude,” Hercules replied, smiling sadly.

“You can't blame me for being curious,” Harte moaned, bemused. Eliza ran her fingers through his hair, humming thoughtfully.

Alexander leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, smiling softly.

“Love you,” he said quietly.

Gilbert raised a brow, mouth quirked, poised to ask the question hanging thickly in the air, but unsure how to proceed. Hercules had no such problem.

“When did this happen, and why are you so okay with it, Jack? Isn't Harte your boyfriend?”

Langton blinked, pausing from where he was eating a fry before clearing his throat, running a hand through his messy curls, displacing some of them from his elastic, the hair springing free comically.

“Oh, we’re all together,” he said simply, going back to eating casually.

Gilbert dropped his milk in shock, not even caring as it spilled all over the table. Everyone else, however, cared very much.

“GILBERT!”

“You’re all dating?!”

Hercules got up running to get napkins and rushing back to the table. Alex and Jack were trying to keep it from spilling over the edge and onto their book bags, Eliza using her napkins she kept in her lunchbox, no one really paying attention to the Frenchman.

Hercules launched himself into cleaning the mess with his friends.

Gilbert bit his lip as he picked the spilled carton back upright, laying it on his tray and helping clean the mess he had created.

“Je suis désolé de faire ce désordre gigantesque…”

Alex frowned, pausing his cleaning to pet his friend’s cheek.

“Tout va bien, mon ami. Vous ne vouliez pas dire aucun mal.”

Lafayette chuckled, averting his eyes, frowning.

Jack managed to clean most of the milk and went to throw away the ruined napkins, bumping Gilbert with his hip.

“Calmez-vous,” the freckled teen whispered, heading off.

“Still can’t speak French,” Hercules grumbled.

The French teen took a breath, smiling sheepishly as the rest of the milk was cleaned up and the napkins discarded of.

Eliza wiped the table down with a bit of hand sanitizer before beaming as it looked as though the entire mess hadn’t taken place at all.

“Okay, now that this mess has been fixed,” Hercules began, “What do you mean you’re all together?!”

“Oui! Explain this to us, because we are, how you say, stumped?”

“Gil, you speak better English than our English teacher in both your lives. I’m pretty sure you know what stumped entails,” Jack laughed out.

Gilbert shrugged.

“Purposely misunderstanding gives a dramatic flair.”

“Alas, our theatre friend has brought the stage to the lunchroom.”

The dark-skinned French boy laughed before sobering up considerably, narrowing his eyes.

“You are distracting us.”

Jack smiled a strained smile.

“Uhhh… Um..”

“Do you mean that Eli and Lexi are with you? Like? Relationship wise? Or are you close friends? I’m confused, man,” Hercules said, frowning.

Alex plopped on his boyfriend’s lap, listening to Jack let out a small ‘oof’, tugging Eliza closer and kissing her wrist.

“Since a cat seems to have Jackie’s tongue-”

“Hey!”

“-I’m gonna explain it.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, giggling as Harte kissed the inside of her wrist.

Alex grinned.

“So, Liza and I went to Memorial Grange, and there I got memory whiplash. Well, umm, she’s my wife, as you know, and John here decided… I actually don’t know what John decided, but he was texting someone, I assume Betsey, and then he asked me about getting together with them both, or inviting Betsey to join our relationship, and of course I said yes, and here we are. I have my wife, and my best friend. And they both have meeeee~”

“That’s sappy as hell,” Jack said bluntly, rubbing his boyfriend's side over his shirt.

“Jackson Jonathan Laurens Langton, I will wiggle my ass and make you hard before you go back to class,” Alexander said as seriously as possible, face blank.

Eliza laughed loudly, scooching away.

“Alexander, don’t be so crude.”

“Wha-!? Dude, no, don’t you dare!”

“Then don’t laugh at my declaration of love for my two favorite people!”

Eliza giggled, letting out a surprised noise when Jack picked Alex up and plopped him in her lap.

“Oooooh, you made him maaaad,” Hercules taunted.

“He’s heavy,” Langton said in retaliation, grinning when Harte let out an offended noise.

“What?! I am not! Betsey, defend me!”

Elizabeth laughed heartily, hugging Alex tightly.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, you’re perfect.”

“Heck yeah! Jack, Eliza’s my new favorite person,” Alex said, sticking his tongue out.

Jack gripped his tongue with his thumb and forefinger, leaning extremely close, touching noses with his boyfriend.

“That’s funny, because she’s my new favorite person, too.”

The freckled teen removed his fingers and Alex’s jaw fell open. Jack winked.

Hercules burst into laughter.

“Trouble in poly paradise, yikes!”

“He’s being an ass,” Alexander whined.

Eliza, who had been eating silently and ignoring her boyfriends, rolled her eyes.

“I’ve raised eight kids in a past life, don’t make me raise another two by myself," she quipped sassily.

Gilbert snickered.

Alex whined again when Jack got up to throw away his trash.

“What, dear boy, are you really that needy?”

The French teen at the table laughed as the Irish teen joined the freckled culprit in picking up the trash to throw away.

“Give him a break, Jack,” Hercules smoothed, amused.

“But it’s so much fun to fluster someone up before class. Isn’t that right, Alexander?”

Alex glared, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Shut the royal fuck up. You weren’t supposed to use that against me.”

Elizabeth chuckled, rolling her eyes and wiping her hands before pinching her boyfriend’s cheek.

“He’s just trying to get a rise, Alexander.”

“Pretty sure his version of rise is different than yours.”

Gilbert choked on air.

“Alexandre, there is a lady present!”

Alex cackled and Eliza buried her face in her hands.

\---

Angelica stalked past a bunch of Freshmen, following James and Thomas, both of which are oblivious to the click-clack of heels following them at a steady pace. They sped up as they neared the library and the tall girl raised a brow, slowing down a bit, giving them some distance as she watched them turn into the library, Thomas barely dodging the door coming to slap him in the face and slipping inside, haste not forgotten as he zipped after his friend.

Angelica checked her phone for the time. She still had fifteen minutes to gather the information she needed.

Fixing her outfit and brushing herself down, Angelica slipped into the library, looking around, waving at the librarian.

“Angelica Sawyer! It’s always so nice to see you in here. To what do I owe the pleasure today?”

The teenager grinned, bowing at the waist.

“Just looking for a few books, ma’am.”

“Oh, well don’t let me keep you,” the librarian laughed, waving her off and going back to reading herself.

The girl slipped into the depths of the library, scanning the books, peering over the spines to see if she could track down who she was looking for. She heard talking and paused her stalking down the aisle, listening in.

“Jem, why are you so mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Bullshit, Millston. You wouldn’t have dashed off if you weren’t upset.”

Angelica raised a brow, kneeling down and peering through the cracks in the books to catch a glimpse of what was going on. She was blocked by Thomas’ afro hair. She almost found it funny. Almost.

She listened closely.

“Okay, you want the truth?”

“No, I followed you to the library ‘cause I want you to lie to me; OF COURSE I WANT THE TRUTH!” Thomas hissed in a whisper tone.

James sighed.

“Stop being overdramatic, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Excuse me, drama is life,” Jackson joked. When James didn’t relent his piercing stare, the taller teen awkwardly cleared his throat. “What’s going on with you, Jemmy?”

“I said it before we left the cafeteria.”

“That you know what it’s like to be alone? Jem, we were talking about Aaron before you said that.”

James nodded.

“You’re being a bit of a petty bitch,” the small teen said monotonously. 

Thomas gawked and Angelica had to hold back a snort of laughter at the lack of emotion.

“James Millston!”

“Calling them as I am seeing them.”

“I didn’t come here to be insulted, and that doesn’t even answer my question!”

“Where do you usually go?”

Angelica slapped a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing.

“Jaaaaaaaames!”

James rolled his eyes.

“To answer you about what I said, I didn’t exactly have friends before you came to our school. Aaron only had Harte. I only had Harte at one point. He lost him, it’s lonely, simple as that.”

“Wait, back the fuck up- You and Harte?”

“Yes, Thomas.”

Jackson blinked.

“That means you’ve got dirt.”

“Oh my god- Thomas, you’re ridiculous.”

“I am not!”

Angelica brushed herself off, standing up carefully. Did she waste her lunch period for this?

“Can you at least tell me if he acts, or has acted like Hamilton?”

James paused where he was reaching for his school work and Angelica stilled, listening closely.

“...You’re still on about that?”

“He told me himself he was a reincarnate. I’m just trying to figure out who he is.”

Angelica blinked.

Reincarnate? She had heard Eliza talking about that with someone before...Maybe she'd have more to say on the source? No, she'd never tell. Eliza was sweet, but she had secrets, too.

“Thomas, I’m not someone who knows what they are supposed to act like. That’s all you.”

“But you’ve studied Hamilton before! In Middle School! What were his mannerisms, what were his flaws? Does Harte embody them?”

Millston sighed, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Thomas, breathe. I know it’s a lot for you to take in, but that was YEARS ago. I don't even remember what Harte himself was doing at that point, let alone whose memories could've been persuading his actions.”

Angelica leaned closer, ear pressed against an empty spot in the books, leaning against the bookshelves.

“...I can’t be alone in this… I just… I can’t..Someone has to be suffering, too..”

James pet his friend’s hair soothingly.

“If you’re really that curious, we can talk about it after school.”

Thomas brightened up.

“More snooping through reincarnate history?”

“More-so going through Hamilton’s archive to see if Harte could possibly be him,” James explained, zipping up his bag, “We could probably find something on him in the history section.”

Angelica looked up at what section she was in.

History.

Hah, of course.

“Good idea. We’ve been sitting here for like ten minutes talking instead of doing work. I think the librarian is curious,” Thomas admitted sheepishly, getting up.

The eldest Sawyer sister scavenged around in front of herself for about a minute as the boys got up before grabbing a story on the American Revolution and walking quickly to another aisle, finger trailing over the spines of the other books as she actually began searching for one in particular to seal the rouse.

A shadow fell across her and the woman looked up, raising a brow.

“Angelica Sawyer?”

She smoothed some hair behind her ear, feigning disinterest.

“Thomas Jackson. Wouldn’t expect to find you in here,” she said coolly.

“Uhm..Yeah,” The teenager admitted with a small flush to his dark cheeks, “Got an assignment, so I decided to come here and check out a book or two on it.”

“Last minute?”

“..I suppose.” With a practiced flourish, the calm, meek boy was gone, replaced with the cocky asshole everyone seemed to swoon over, “What about you, sweetheart?”

The woman scoffed.

Everyone but Angelica, that is.

“Just looking for a little light reading.”

Thomas looked equal parts appalled as skeptical.

“In the history section?”

“What can I say? I like the new ideas being developed in the American Revolution,” she deflected easily.

“Gotta love a woman with class, I suppose,” Thomas mused.

She rolled her eyes, kneeling and scanning the spines of the books for the title she was looking for. Thomas knelt by her.

“Whatcha lookin’ for anyway, babydoll?”

Angelica scoffed at the nickname, shoving him lightly.

“Common Sense.”

Jackson blinked.

“Uh.”

“The book by Thomas Paine, you dolt.”

“Oooooh...Wait- HEY!”

The bell rang.

The dark-skinned young lady stood and Thomas stared, blinking and gawking up at her. She raised a brow, using her heeled foot to push him onto his back before turning and walking away. Thomas watched her go with a low whistle, cheeks flaming.

James came from the other side of the aisle, holding a book before grabbing Jackson by the shirt sleeve and dragging him away.

“Thanks for helping me find the book,” James bit out dryly.

“I was momentarily distracted.”

“By a pair of long legs you’d rather have around your neck? Yeah, I get it,” James scoffed, “This rise of affection is a distraction that won’t get you anyway closer to Harte, or Hamilton, you know that, right?”

Thomas grinned as said long legs walked by them again, Angelica checking out her book and leaving the library.

“Come on, can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can. You’re a fool. A horny fool.”

Thomas rolled his eyes as James checked out the book and they were both headed to their next period.

“You’re so dramatic.”

A gentle silence filled the hall as they walked, people milling about, trying to get to their classes, brushing past them.

“You think about sex too often,” Millston said eventually to fill the silence, annoyed.

“I think about sex the perfect amount. You’re just mad that you’re not who I'm thinking of.”

“Thomas, I will hit you with this book.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

There was a sharp ‘thwack’, followed by a loud yelp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> Je suis désolé de faire ce désordre gigantesque: I'm sorry to make this gigantic mess
> 
> Tout va bien, mon ami: All is well, my friend
> 
> Vous ne vouliez pas dire aucun mal: You did not mean any harm.
> 
> Calmez-vous: Calm down  
> \---
> 
> One more thing:
> 
> Aaron disappears a lot, and I mean A LOT, in this au, but there's a reason for it, so keep an eye out for him

**Author's Note:**

> Because we don't have enough reincarnation fics, it seems


End file.
